


Your Eyes Betray

by Lunar_Pull



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Post Endless Waltz, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunar_Pull/pseuds/Lunar_Pull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine years after the war, Duo Maxwell has it all. He’s a hot-shot Preventer agent and he’s partnered with his best friend and sometimes lover. When a familiar figure from their past shows up, it makes Duo question everything he thought he wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maybe Not Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story is taken from the song "I Love You" by Woodkid, which basically inspired this whole story and is wonderful and amazing and you should definitely listen to it if you get the chance. This is the continuation of the one-shot, "A Different Kind of Animal." 
> 
> Thanks to Miss M for beta-ing and for encouraging me to write this.

 

"Maybe we can draw that line  
Maybe another time  
Well I wanna do what's right  
But maybe not tonight."

 _-Maybe not Tonight_ , Glen Hansard

The antiquated ballroom was enormous. It shone brightly with over-the-top cream and gold-colored decorations, softly spinning chandeliers and the sparkling jewels donning the necks of the elite party-goers. The room was packed with all manner of political dignitaries from Earth and the space colonies alike, dressed up in evening gowns and tuxedos, and the room thrummed with the soft murmur of voices occasionally broken by good-natured laughter. It looked every bit a scene from a lovely dream. To Duo Maxwell, who was currently working the security detail, this place was a nightmare.

To begin with, Duo had been forced to wear a tuxedo as this was a formal event and he'd been (quite rudely, he might add) informed that his Preventers uniform would clash with the décor. So not only was he charged with the inane task of keeping a bunch of rich folks in line, he had to do it in a stupid suit with a stupidly skinny tie. At least he looked damn good, if the looks he kept receiving from the available young ladies were any indication. Or maybe it was the way he kept muttering profanities into his wrist.

"Wufei, I am going to fucking murder you in your sleep for this," Duo whispered into the small communication device.

"Maxwell," came a voice from behind Duo, "I'd really appreciate if you'd stop scaring all these people, I'd hate to have to deal with a stampede."

Duo snorted and turned to find Chang Wufei, former pilot of the Gundam Shenlong and currently the supervising agent of his Preventer unit and therefore the object of his rage. He wore a similar dark suit, adding a maroon cummerbund and a matching bow tie. Wufei's expression mirrored a disapproving parent, complete with the single raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

"Sure thing, boss," Duo said, trying to calm down, "but you know I hate these things and considering I just got back from a four month long undercover mission, I'd say this is as close to torture as you can legally get."

Wufei smirked. "Perhaps. Consider it a special punishment for the last time I walked in on your groping session in the very public bathroom at headquarters."

Duo had to smile fondly at that, "that was a personal record."

The narrowed look he received from Wufei was enough to make Duo almost feel sorry. "Alright, alright," he conceded, "I see your point."

"Don't worry, Maxwell," Wufei said, a playful tone creeping into his voice, "your partner is suffering the same punishment you are."

"He's here?" Duo couldn't help the hopeful tone of his voice.

"Of course. I couldn't well punish you and not your partner. That would seem unfair."

Duo was only sort of listening to Wufei continue on about justice and fairness and how he hoped that punishing his Preventer partner would deter Duo from attempting any other reckless stunts, but his eyes were busy scanning the crowd, looking for the man himself. When his gaze finally landed on his target, he couldn't suppress a smile.

Quatre Raberba Winner stood flanked by two other Preventer agents that Duo recognized as Lucrezia Noin and Sally Po. He wore a grim expression and he was clearly listening to instructions, since his hand was raised, a finger pressing into the ear piece he wore. It had been nine years since the fall of Mariemaia's army and Duo still marveled at how much Quatre had changed. He had grown taller, as they all had, and the roundness of his face had given away to a sharper jawline. Quatre wore his hair longer now; it curled softly at the ends and made him look a lot more like a disheveled youth than a Preventer agent. Although that was probably the point.

Quatre had tried to follow in his father's footsteps and take over Winner Enterprises after the war, but he'd barely lasted a year before he began to go stir crazy. The stiff upper-class society and demanding schedule of a business leader didn't suit him anymore and it wasn't long before he'd shown up at Duo's apartment, a single suitcase in hand. Duo had taken in his friend and convinced Quatre to join the Preventers as he had. Just because there was no unified threat to fight against didn't mean that they had to quit protecting the peace they had built. Duo's words had given Quatre a newfound energy and he threw himself into the Preventers' mission wholeheartedly. Everyone had been surprised by Quatre's return to action. Duo had been proud.

Duo thought about how they had all changed since the end of the war. Wufei hadn't grown much taller, but he had exchanged his signature ponytail for a more professional-looking short haircut once he'd been made a Preventer Commander. He was in charge of a team of twenty Preventer officers now and he had to look the part. Wufei had also mellowed considerably since the end of the war as evident by his allowing Quatre and Duo to be partners despite the danger of having two former Gundam pilots paired up. Duo supposed that Wufei's relationship with Sally and the lasting peace between the Earth and colonies had quite the impact. It would seem that Wufei had finally found something to protect.

The men known as Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton had retired from the battlefield. Heero had disappeared immediately after the fall of Dekim Barton and Duo always suspected that though the "Perfect Soldier" had left without a word, Heero was still very much involved with Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian. Trowa had returned to Catherine Bloom and circus life, refusing Wufei's offer to join his Preventer unit.  _I've been fighting all my life_ , he had said, _I just want to live quietly._

The fact was that the only former Gundam pilot who hadn't changed much since the end of the war was Shinigami himself. He had grown taller, his shoulders broader, and his frame more muscular but he still wore his hair in a ridiculously long braid that earned him many rebukes from Wufei. Duo was still just a bit too brazen, too rebellious, too reckless. It was what made him an endless pain in the ass to Wufei and Quatre and a damn good Preventer agent. It also made him a mediocre boyfriend at best. Hilde could probably talk your ear off about it.

Duo inhaled deeply as he watched Quatre mouth the words  _she's here_  into his wrist. All the Preventer agents straightened to attention as Commander Une took the stage and a hush fell over the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming out to celebrate this momentous occasion. Tonight, we remember all the sacrifices made in order to ensure everlasting peace. We honor the fallen soldiers and the leaders who passed away. Though we honor the dead and their immeasurable sacrifice, tonight we also celebrate. On this anniversary of the end of the Eve Wars, we celebrate the Earth Sphere United Nation and what the space colonies and the Earth have been able to build together. I now present you with our guest of honor, Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian."

Duo had to hand it to Commander Une, she was a hell of a public speaker. Amidst the swell of applause from the crowd, Relena walked onto the stage, clad in a dusty blue dress, hair tied up in an elegant bun. But Duo wasn't watching her. His eyes were locked onto the figure of Quatre, hid conspicuously in the wings of the stage. Quatre's eyes were scanning the crowd and when they finally landed on Duo, he gave a small smile.

Duo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He hadn't seen Quatre in four months because of his undercover mission and the two hadn't parted on the best of terms. They had fought the day before he'd left, which wasn't entirely unusual but the fight had been more vicious than normal. If Duo recalled correctly, Quatre had called him an insufferable, selfish bastard before hanging up on him. But whatever anger Duo had felt had dissipated the moment he saw that Quatre was no longer mad. Besides, four months infiltrating a fledgling terrorist cell really gave a guy time to think about how he treated his friends.

The rest of the evening went on as expected. Quatre, Sally and Noin followed Relena discreetly throughout the ballroom and Duo was stuck in his little corner alone when Wufei went check on a problem at the back entrance of the building. The only thing that made the night bearable was the way Quatre kept choking back laughter at Duo's exaggerated eye rolls.

When he noticed that Quatre was holding a half-empty glass of champagne, Duo knew it was his perfect chance. He waited like a good soldier for Wufei to return before asking him for a break. Wufei was not pleased, but the night was drawing to a close and Relena would soon be making her exit. He nodded stiffly at Duo.

"Well, well, well," Duo said when he reached Quatre and noted his glass was now empty, "if it isn't 'non-alcoholic' champagne-loving Quatre."

Quatre rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "you're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Of course not," Duo smirked.

"It's good to see you, Duo," Quatre said, smiling a bit wider now, "even if you spent the whole night trying to make me lose my composure."

"Oh come on, Quat. What kind of partner would I be if I didn't? I have to keep you on your toes, keep those instincts honed."

Quatre only nodded and glanced around the room. If Duo didn't know any better, he'd have thought Quatre was looking for someone.

"So you off-duty yet?" Duo asked.

"I wouldn't be drinking if I wasn't. Noin's escorting Relena back to her hotel as we speak."

"Great, 'cuz I need to talk to you and it's very important and private so just come with me."

Duo grabbed Quatre's forearm and dragged him away from the crowd, ignoring his half-hearted protests. He led them down a long corridor and then up a flight of stairs. The upper floor was empty and dark and Duo all but pushed Quatre through the door to the men's bathroom. Duo took a moment to check the bathroom for wayward guests and gave an approving hum when he found it totally empty.

"Duo," Quatre said disapprovingly as Duo shoved him into the stall furthest from the door.

Duo shoved Quatre up against the wall of the stall and locked their lips together. He kissed him hungrily, hands roaming the expanse of Quatre's chest and tugging on the lapels of his suit jacket.

"You're crazy," Quatre breathed out as Duo trailed kisses down his neck. Despite his protests, Quatre arched his neck to allow Duo better access.

"Crazy about you," Duo returned, lips brushing against Quatre's skin as he spoke the words. Duo's hands drifted down to palm Quatre through his trousers, eliciting a sharp hiss from the latter.

"You look so fucking good in that suit, Quat," Duo whispered in Quatre's ear, relishing the way he squirmed and tensed against him, "I've been thinking about ripping it off you all night long."

"Duo, we can't do this here. This is exactly how we got stuck with the security detail in the first place."

"Hey, I have very fond memories of the bathroom at headquarters," Duo smiled against Quatre's neck as he quickly tried to unbutton the white shirt.

"Yeah, well, Wufei doesn't and if he catches us again we're going to be in so much trouble."

"I like to live dangerously," Duo said, taking a break from kissing Quatre to look into his eyes, "and besides, if Wufei didn't want me to fuck your brains out he shouldn't have put you in that suit."

Quatre laughed then, loud and clear, and wrapped his arms around Duo's shoulders. He pressed their foreheads together and looked up at Duo.

"You don't look too bad yourself, you know," Quatre grinned. His smile made Duo's heart bang against his chest.

"But you know," he continued, slowly pushing Duo backwards until his back hit the wall and their positions were reversed, "if we're going to do this, maybe we should set more realistic goals. How about instead of the lofty task of fucking in this tiny stall we settle for just blowing each other's brains out?"

Quatre was on his knees before Duo could reply, making quick work of Duo's pants. Duo looked down at the slender young man kneeling before him, his shaggy head of hair and unbelievably bright eyes. Duo remembered a time in a dimly lit carrier hanger, Quatre shaking between his legs, and he was overcome by emotion. He smiled to himself and brought his hand up to stroke Quatre's hair. Duo couldn't for the life him remember why the two had been fighting in the first place.

"How are you so perfect?" Duo asked and Quatre looked up and smirked. "I missed you."

Quatre froze and Duo tugged on his shoulders to make him stand again. He tried to look at Quatre but the other man's eyes were darting around and looking anywhere but at Duo.

"I mean it, Quat," Duo said, sincerity making his voice waver, "I missed you."

"Duo, don't—" Quatre began but was quickly cut off.

"I've been thinking about what you said and—"

"I've been seeing someone else."

The words hung in the air and the two men stared at each other.

"What?" was the only thing Duo could think to say. He felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Quatre didn't respond. He just looked at Duo with an expression of guilt that made Duo furious.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Duo said through gritted teeth.

"Duo—"

"No, no, no, you have got to be fucking kidding me!"

Quatre's eyes narrowed and his face changed from guilt to anger. Duo had been on the receiving of that venomous look many times and though he raised his chin in defiance, inwardly he faltered.

"Duo, you have no right. You're the one with the girlfriend!"

And suddenly, their last screaming match came flooding back to Duo. The reason for their fight, like always, was Duo's relationship with Hilde. After he joined the Preventers and peace seemed unbreakable, Duo had felt invincible. He'd felt like a fucking hero. Hell, he was one. So he had accepted the numerous offers of drinks and dates from women and men alike (Duo prided himself on his fluid sexuality) and, in essence, enjoyed himself. Very much. When Quatre showed up at his doorstep, they'd picked up where they had left off during the war, but Duo made sure that Quatre always knew that they were not an exclusive item. Quatre seemed more than happy with what they had. Until, suddenly, he wasn't. Probably around the time Hilde and Duo moved in together. Quatre knew about Hilde and Hilde knew about Quatre and they both knew about Duo's other lovers and for a while, all had been harmonious. But years passed by and Duo stopped seeing anyone but Hilde and Quatre, essentially throwing them into an unwanted polyamorous relationship. Hilde didn't care; she knew Duo well enough to know that he couldn't be owned, that he valued his freedom more than anything, and she was content with what she had. But Quatre was confused and hurt and he wanted out.

All or nothing, Quatre had said. He had tried to walk away from Duo before, but he never got far enough and Duo didn't let him. He adored Quatre. He thought the sun shone out of his damn ass and in the quiet moments when Duo let himself be honest, he found himself thinking of the proverbial L word. Of course, the two had never exchanged 'I love yous' and every time Quatre seemed dangerously close to uttering those three little words, Duo changed the subject as quickly as possible. But that was then. Now was four months of no contact and dreaming of Quatre's laughter. Now Duo felt ready to really give Quatre what he wanted and deserved: a steady relationship.

"I left Hilde," Duo said, after the silence became unbearable.

Quatre's eyes widened almost comically, "you  _what_?"

"I left her, man," Duo repeated, "I left her 'cause you said 'all or nothing' and you sounded so damn serious this time. It seemed so different so the moment I got back, we broke up."

"How is she?" That was Quatre for you, always worried about the underdog.

"She's fine, she said she saw it coming and that she knew deep down she could never live up to you and that I could pick up my stuff tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"She said she could never live up to you—"

"No," Quatre clarified in his eerily calm infuriated tone, "the part where you have to pick up your stuff."

"Well, Quatre, I'm not gonna fucking stay there now," Duo said as he finally reached down to zip up and adjust his pants. This definitely did not go according to plan. "Ideally, I was going to move in with you."

Quatre frowned even more, if that was possible. "Let me just get this straight. You thought that even though we've been fighting about this for years and we had a huge blow-up right before you left, not to mention the fact that I have not seen or heard from you for four months, that I was just going to let you move in with me?"

"I said 'ideally'," Duo remarked and he could see that Quatre was nearly shaking with all the effort he was putting into not punching his lights out. Another thought struck him and he added, "How long?"

Quatre sighed deeply, guilt creeping back into his demeanor, "We've been dating for about a month, I guess."

"I see, so is that why you're blowing your ex-whatever in the bathroom?"

"Don't be like that. First, we're not exclusive or official or anything, we have just been on a few dates. Second, you're the one who told me to—and I quote—'sew my wild oats' and stop worrying about your feelings. You're the one who didn't want this to be a relationship," Quatre sighed and his next words came out less harsh, "I am sorry I pushed you, Duo. You wanted to be free and I tried to make you into something different and, for that, I am truly sorry."

Duo felt his heart clench at the genuineness in Quatre's voice and words. He was at a complete loss as he stared at Quatre's face. But then he felt a sourness, a fire building in his stomach and his next question came out dripping with acid.

"Who is he?"

Quatre gaped at him, looking torn between feeling wounded and offended. "It doesn't matter," he answered before swiftly turning the lock and walking out of the stall. Duo followed.

"Don't you dare walk out on me," Duo called after him.

"I can't do this right now," Quatre said over his shoulder, "please just give me some space."

He froze in his tracks. "Fine," was Duo's icy reply.

Duo waited in the bathroom while Quatre left, not looking to see if Quatre had looked back. He walked over to the sink and splashed some cool water on his face, trying his best to avoid looking in the mirror. He used a paper towel to dry off before walking back down to the party. The crowd had thinned considerably and Duo made a real effort not to look for Quatre. Wufei seemed genuinely surprised to see him back at his post.

"I thought you'd snuck off a while ago," Wufei said.

"I'm a professional, sir," Duo barked out.

Years of being Duo's superior had taught Wufei that Duo only referred to him as 'sir' when there was no one around to hear the respectful title if he was in truly awful mood. Wufei looked at Duo, who was seething with barely-contained emotion.

"Maxwell," Wufei began, "you are dismissed. Go home and get some sleep."

Duo felt relief wash over him and he nodded in appreciation at Wufei before handing him his communication device and earpiece. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked through the crowd towards the exit. This had been one epic fuck-up of a night. Duo had felt so sure that Quatre would welcome him home with open arms and a willing body. When he hadn't been focusing on his mission, Duo's thoughts had been filled with memories of Quatre playing the violin, Quatre sliding between his bed sheets, Quatre making him coffee in the mornings. He thought of their intimate moments and decided that he couldn't risk living a lifetime without them. He'd broken Hilde's heart to keep them. Duo couldn't imagine this day getting any worse, but as with most things, as it turned out: Duo was wrong. He made the mistake of looking to his left where he caught sight of Quatre, looking somber and defeated, receiving a peck on the cheek from none other than Trowa fucking Barton.


	2. Good Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Duo says goodbye to Hilde and decides denial is the best form of medicine.

 

Duo opened his eyes slowly and instantly wished he hadn't. His head pounded with a splitting headache, his body ached tremendously and his mouth tasted of old liquor and filth. Duo looked around his living room and shifted on the small couch he occupied. The room was untidy-heaps of clothes were strewn about the room and the few pictures on the walls were taped on and crooked. Hilde was an angel sent from Heaven but absolutely, horribly disorganized. Duo found it endearing usually; Hilde's flightiness meshed well with his impulsive nature and he'd always been quite taken with her dreamy ideas. But that was all over now.

Duo groaned helplessly and the sound was pathetic but he didn't care. He closed his eyes again. Maybe if he shut his eyes tightly enough he could drift back to dreamless sleep.

His hopes of sleeping his hangover away were dashed by the sound of soft footsteps. A steaming cup of coffee was set on the coffee table before him and his legs were shoved unceremoniously off of the couch, forcing him to sit up.

"Rise and shine," Hilde said in a sweet sing-song voice, smiling as if she hadn't just thrown his legs of the couch and made Duo's head spin.

Duo let out another graceless sound before taking the cup of coffee in his hands and sipping the liquid. Hilde looked at Duo openly. Her eyes searched his face for answers. Duo had shown up at his old apartment after the disastrous party, thoroughly drunk. Hilde let him in and didn't ask any questions. The next day, he had done the same thing and again, and Hilde had let him sleep off his drunkenness. It was Sunday morning now and though Hilde was patient, she was not an idiot.

"I take it things didn't go well with Quatre," she said finally.

Duo said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. He only bowed his head.

"Hey, you know you can stay here as long as you need," Hilde offered.

Duo glanced at her in her oversized patterned sweater and too-pink floppy hat. Her blue eyes were kind and honest. Duo had once tried to explain to Quatre why he couldn't just forget about Hilde. The only thing he could say was that she had saved him. They had met at a time when Duo was lonely and afraid, though he'd never admit it. She was sassy and opinionated and she had sparked a love of the colonies back into his soul. Duo felt fiercely protective of this remarkable girl; he would spend the rest of the war fighting with the knowledge that he was making the world safer for people like Hilde. People like her didn't belong on the battlefield. Every day that Hilde finished another whimsical painting was another day that she didn't have to work at a junkyard or pilot a mobile suit and Duo was partially responsible for that.

And of course, they had fucked during the war, after the war, a few months ago. Duo had fucked a lot of people, both figuratively and literally, during his twenty-five years of life. He'd even had a pretty torrid affair with the Perfect Soldier himself during the war and exchanged countless hand jobs with private school boys while in hiding. But a few had been special, Hilde was among them. Someone had once told Duo that sacrifice was giving up something you love for the sake of something you love more. There was that damn L word, again.

"I can't, Hilde. I'm sorry."

"I know," she said, giving him a sad sort of smile that made Duo feel like absolute shit. "Well, tomorrow is Monday and you have to go back to work, so..."

"I'll be out of here in a minute, okay?" Duo said, wanting to end their conversation. Hilde sighed and disappeared into their bedroom.

Duo stood up slowly feeling like he was wading in quicksand. He gathered his belongings—shockingly few despite his fairly large Preventer paycheck—and shoved them into his duffle bag. Duo picked up clothing, mostly black, his Preventer uniform, his guns and knives, a few photos. He took one last look around the small apartment yet he didn't think he'd miss it. His years of living on the streets had conditioned him to consider any residence impermanent. He glanced around one last time, imprinting the memory of the outdated wooden furniture and the colorful canvases, finished and unfinished, that littered the space. As he closed the door behind him one last time, Duo was oddly thankful that Hilde had stayed in their room. He was never any good at goodbyes.

 

* * *

 

The Preventers headquarters were located in the L3 colony cluster after a lengthy report had concluded that the area posed the most threat. If Mareimaia and Dekim Barton had been able to amass an army of mobile suits and eager soldiers while remaining undetected, who knew what other dangers lurked in that little corner of the universe? Headquarters was composed of ten state-of-the-art buildings of varying security clearance. The main building loomed above the rest, and Duo was stood at the bottom of the long stairs leading up to the main entrance, biding his time.

It wasn't that he was scared to face Quatre, on the contrary; Duo was looking forward to it. He'd checked into a local hotel, flirted shamelessly with the bell hop and hooked up with a particularly feisty bartender from a dive bar nearby. And all on a Sunday. Yes, Duo Maxwell was back, ladies and gentlemen, and he had Quatre Winner's traitorous ass to thank for it.

Duo accepted that he'd overreacted the last time he'd seen Quatre. Even though it had hurt, there was really no reason to be so upset. Quatre was his best friend (with benefits) and he should be happy for him. Nothing would change too drastically, anyway. Duo was sure of it. He was convinced that his brief foray into actually wanting a relationship was caused by malnutrition and months of isolation and nothing more. What's-her-face from the bar had proven that.

So Duo made his way up the stairs, through the building security checkpoints and into his office with an extra spring in his step. He wasn't counting on the way his heart started beating faster when he spotted Quatre sitting at his desk, surrounded by empty coffee mugs and typing furiously on his laptop. Fuck.

Quatre looked up from his computer and cleared his throat. "Wufei wants your report about the mission by the end of the week."

Duo walked towards his own desk, setting down his messenger bag and falling into his desk chair. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to make things right with Quatre or be furious at him, but he was determined to make his good mood last. Besides, he really couldn't blame the guy. It wasn't like Duo had been exactly fair to him these past eight years.

"We're okay, right Quat?" He called across the room, ignoring the confused looks he got from the other agents occupying the office.

Quatre looked back at Duo, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "If you're okay, I'm okay, I guess."

Duo wanted to make a cheap joke about the diplomacy of Quatre's answer but he figured now was probably not the best time. "Good. We're good then."

Duo patted himself on the back. Crisis averted. He switched on his computer and began typing out his report. Hours passed before an incessant vibrating sound broke his concentration. Duo looked around the office, wondering whose mobile phone kept ringing. His eyes landed on Quatre, who looked at his phone and smiled before typing a quick response and setting the phone down.

 _It's probably that clown_ , Duo thought. It shouldn't have made him as livid as it did. It shouldn't have made him want to smash the little piece of technology to pieces. But it did. It also did the next ten times it happened.

"Quat, you mind keeping that down," Duo finally demanded, unable to contain himself any longer.

Quatre shot him an acid look before speaking. "Am I disturbing you, Duo?"

"No, not you. It's the tiny earthquake taking place on your desk every five seconds."

"You listen to music at an inhuman level and you are possibly the loudest person in the universe, I doubt this is really bothering you."

"I'm only loud when I'm drunk."

"You're loud other times, too." Quatre looked mortified the moment the words left his mouth. The two men stared at each other for a beat before Wufei entered the office.

"Maxwell," he began without preamble, "I need that report by the end of the week. Winner, Barton is waiting down at the lobby. Something about a lunch date."

Quatre blushed scarlet at Wufei's raised eyebrow and questioning look. "I didn't realize he was here already," he stammered before practically running out the door.

Wufei turned his questioning look on Duo, who shrugged and sank into his chair, despondently.

"Maxwell, have you had lunch yet?" Wufei asked.

"Not yet, boss," Duo admitted.

"Why don't you join me, then?"

Duo frowned at Wufei's suspiciously kind offer, but he accepted it. "Yeah, okay."  
  


* * *

 

 _Lucky Chang's_ was a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant deep in the heart of the fourth district of colony L3-X18999. The walls were a deep red, the tables were too small and the staff spoke the all-but-obsolete tongue of the former Chinese nation. It was Wufei's favorite restaurant; they served an incredible Youtiao dish and it was never overly crowded. Since becoming a Preventer Commander, Wufei treated himself to a borderline extravagant lunch at Lucky Chang's every Monday and nothing was going to change his tradition. Not even the way Duo kept making jabs at how Wufei shared a name with the restaurant.

"Isn't this kind of like nepotism?" Duo asked, grinning widely between bites of fried rice.

"Last one, Maxwell, or I'll have you on desk duty for the rest of your life."

"Geez, boss, where's your sense of humor?" Duo laughed.

The two had spent a half hour discussing the details of Duo's latest mission and they had settled into a companionable silence before Duo began teasing Wufei mercilessly.

"What's going on with you and Winner?" Wufei asked bluntly, in the hopes of changing the subject at last.

Duo choked on his drink. "What do you mean?" he coughed out.

Wufei merely crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, a picture of disbelief.

"Nothing is wrong." Duo smiled widely through his lie.

"Maxwell, as your superior, I have to remind you whatever ill-advised workplace relationships you chose to involve yourself in are none of my business. However, as your friend, I couldn't help but notice the puppy dog eyes you and Winner were exchanging earlier today."

Duo inhaled deeply and gave up his charade. "He's dating Trowa, apparently. That's it, I guess."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"He could have chosen someone with a career that doesn't involve dressing up like a clown."

"Maxwell, that's uncalled for. The man fought the same war we did, if he wants a normal life, he deserves it."

Duo rolled his eyes. He hated when Wufei made sense. "I know, I know. Honestly, I just don't really trust the guy. Not with Quatre, at least. I mean, he broke his heart once already."

It was true enough. Anyone who saw Trowa and Quatre interact during the war could tell that there was something between them. Though they could face an army of mobile dolls without a second thought, Trowa and Quatre tiptoed around each other like the lovesick teenagers they were. They exchanged shy glances and some brief heated kisses aboard Peacemillion but nothing more. There was too much guilt and confusion between them since the Wing ZERO incident. After the war, Quatre had tried to contact Trowa in the hopes of building a real relationship but Trowa had blown him off- citing his need to disassociate himself from the war and everything that reminded him of what he lost as an excuse. Quatre had been devastated.

"So what, then? It's over between you two?" Wufei asked again.

"Me and Quatre? Nope. Not in the least."

"Does he know that?" Wufei asked pointedly. His intensely disapproving gaze only succeeded in making Duo stretch out in his chair, hooking his hands behind his head, and grinning like a madman.

"Look, Wufei, I know this is hard for you to understand because of your whole honor code or whatever but what me and Quatre have is a little arrangement I like to call fuck buddies. That means that we're best friends, who have sex often, but there's no commitment involved. He can date who he wants and I can date who I want, because with us, it's just sex."

"Just sex, huh. Is that why you practically live in his apartment and spend almost every free moment with him? Don't you guys have a dog?"

"Okay, first off, I don't live with him. In fact, I broke it off with Hilde, so I'm kind of homeless at the moment. We don't spend _that_ much time together and Quatre had a foster dog. I just helped him with her sometimes."

Wufei stood up then, and walked to the counter to pay the bill. Duo waited until the plates were cleared away, making sure to thank the waitress before joining Wufei.

"Seriously, Wufei, I know it's hard to understand but it's just what works for us."

They stepped out into the artificial lighting of the colony and began the trek back to headquarters. Wufei was silent and Duo lost himself in his thoughts. He'd always had a problem with monogamy; his childhood spent sleeping in alleyways and living off scraps of food taught him to embrace every opportunity. The thought of restricting himself to just one person felt so confining and dishonest. Of course, like Wufei had mentioned, Duo had done just that without even noticing. Hilde was the only other person in his love life nowadays and he paid her nowhere near as much attention as he did Quatre.

The problem with Quatre was that Duo didn't really understand how he felt about him. Initially, Duo had been fascinated by Quatre's naiveté when it came to sex and Duo had taken it upon himself to corrupt him every way he could during the few days they had spent together on Earth. They had seen each other a few more times during the war, but by then, Heero Yuy had somehow made his way into all of Duo's thoughts and Quatre had been head over heels for Trowa so the only thing that had flourished between them was a friendship. When the war had ended and the five pilots had parted ways, Duo was surprised to find that he missed Quatre most of all. Not Heero and the way they couldn't keep their hands off each other, not Wufei and his impeccable fighting style, and definitely not Trowa. It was Quatre and the way he laughed at all of Duo's dumb jokes, the way he had let him fuck him underneath starlight.

Duo had been elated when Quatre had shown up at his doorstep all those years ago, asking for help and comfort, and goddamn overjoyed when they had begun to fuck again. And though the sex was mind-blowing, Duo was reluctant to admit that he gravitated towards Quatre for reasons other than his prowess in the bedroom (or bathroom stall, or darkly lit alleyway) so he did his best to shut that part of himself off. The way he felt about Quatre was...well, Duo didn't want to think about it anymore. Besides, it didn't matter.

"So where are you sleeping?" Wufei asked, after a few minutes, bringing Duo out of his reverie.

"I'm staying in a hotel. I guess I should find a place soon."

"You should come stay with me until you're back on your feet," Wufei offered. Duo blanched when Wufei added, "The thought of you staying in some cheap hotel is just depressing, anyway."

Duo had to chuckle at that. He would never get tired of how Wufei had developed a sense of humor frighteningly similar to his own.

"Thanks, Wufei," Duo said.

The walk with Wufei was calming and Duo began to think that maybe it was for the best that Quatre found someone else to focus on. Though he loathed to think of having to give up their arrangement, Duo thought that perhaps Trowa would be able to give Quatre the stability he longed for.

As Wufei and Duo neared the headquarters, they noticed Quatre and Trowa walking from the opposite direction.  _Speak of the devil,_  Duo thought bitterly. As usual, the two men were wrapped up in each other. Quatre was looking up at Trowa, mouth moving rapidly and gesticulating wildly with his hands. Trowa listened intently with an amused look on his face, barely able to keep his eyes of the smaller man. Duo thought, not for the first time, that they looked like they belonged together.

Quatre stopped looking at Trowa long enough to notice Wufei and Duo and a sad sort of look crossed his face for a moment before he walked inside the building. Trowa followed suit.

"Just one question, Maxwell," Wufei began as he started to climb the stairs, "if it's really just about the sex and nothing more, why did you leave Hilde?"

Wufei didn't wait for Duo to answer. He turned swiftly on his heel, leaving Duo standing stock still and dumbfounded.


	3. Test Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo is haunted by memories of Quatre and Wufei attempts to help.

 

"why do I feel so crazy now?  
why am I losing my mind?

'cause I believe, I believe  
you could see me forever by his side

still you can call this a test pattern  
so you don't have to commit  
so you can change any day."

- _Test Pattern_ , The Thermals

Memories like the first time Duo had woken up next to Quatre kept replaying in Duo's head like some sort of awful movie sequence. It made him feel pathetic and—worst of all—melancholy for the intimate moments he'd shared with the former Sandrock pilot.

_Duo had been laid in bed, watching the soft rise and fall of Quatre's bare chest and the tiny shadows his dark eyelashes made against his cheekbones. He'd begun to stir and Duo had shut his eyes quickly._

" _Hey," Quatre greeted, sleepily. "What time is it?"_

_Duo had looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table then despite knowing full well that it was ten o' clock in the morning as he'd been watching Quatre sleep for fifteen minutes. "It's almost ten."_

_A groggy little huff had left Quatre's lips as he shifted onto his side to position his head on Duo's chest and hooked his right leg over the other man's waist. He'd burrowed closer to him and let his arm hang over Duo's torso, holding him tight. Duo, for his part, had brought his arms around Quatre's shoulders, holding him just as tightly. When Quatre leaned up to press their lips together tenderly, Duo's eyes fluttered shut and he hummed in satisfaction._

" _You never stay 'til morning," Quatre said after breaking the kiss with a loud yawn._

" _I know."_

_From the beginning of their arrangement, Duo had always snuck out in the middle of the night or left soon after sex. There was something far too intimate about waking up together and besides, Quatre didn't seem to mind. If he did, he never said a word._

_Lying there, then, with Quatre pliant and rutting up against him, still half-asleep and dreamy, Duo had begun to change his mind. He'd reached up and ruffled the top of Quatre's hair affectionately before placing a quick kiss to his temple. "You want me to?"_

" _Want you to what?" Quatre asked._

_Duo had let a moment passed, thinking about whether he should say what he wanted to say. "Do you want me to stay? In the mornings, I mean."_

_All of Duo's doubts and trepidations were erased when Quatre had quickly sat up on his elbows and looked down at him, eyes wide and adoring. He'd dipped down to kiss Duo, long and deep-morning breath be damned-before whispering, "yes." He'd pulled back, eyes searching Duo's face for something he couldn't put a name to before asking, "Do_ you _want to stay?"_

_Duo's hand had caressed his cheek lightly and Quatre leaned into the touch. "Yeah. I wanna stay."_

_Quatre smiled then, wide and brilliant, and Duo was reminded of the way the moon looked from Earth. He'd thought then about how he was turning into such a sap but he couldn't bring himself to care when Quatre plunged his tongue into his mouth again, climbing atop to straddle his hips as his hands tugged on the base of Duo's braid. He'd rolled his hips enticingly slow, making their cocks rub together exquisitely. Duo's hands flew to his hips, holding Quatre in place so he could thrust up harder into the friction they both so desperately craved._

_Quatre was wide awake then, lulling Duo with lazy, deep kisses before suddenly grabbing Duo's wrists and pinning them roughly against the bed on either side of his head. Duo had smirked lewdly at the man above him. He loved Quatre like this, when he got that glint of wildness in his eye and a lop-sided grin graced his face. He loved not knowing what Quatre would do when he got that deviant little smile on his face; sometimes it meant he'd fuck him fast and ruthless, sometimes it meant handcuffs. Sometimes, it meant that they would spend the whole day in bed while Quatre teased and tortured him, bringing him to the edge but not letting him come for so long that when he finally said the word, Duo fell apart and nearly blacked out._

_This particular morning, it meant that he wanted to take charge, and Duo let him, relaxing under his grip. Quatre had begun trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and chest, still grinding his hips against Duo's now straining erection. When he'd reached a nipple, Quatre flicked his tongue against the nub before biting down gently. Duo had been forced to bite his lip, tensing against Quatre's grip as he held the flat of his tongue against him._

" _Ah, Quat," Duo hissed, quickly losing any semblance of restraint in the face of the blonde's ministrations._

_Quatre had only chuckled, low in his throat, and the sound made Duo twitch obscenely in his boxer briefs. Duo gave in and closed his eyes._

_It could have been hours, it could have been a few minutes, but when Duo opened his eyes again it was to find Quatre panting and needing above him, reaching across to grab the small bottle of lube from the bedside table. He'd looked down at Duo and had the nerve to actually wink at him, knowing full well how Duo felt about such shameless displays of confidence. Duo struggled against Quatre's hold on his wrist but Quatre sat up farther on his chest and pinned him down harder._

" _Oh come on, Quat, let me do something," Duo'd whined - he hated and loved how he sounded like he was begging._

" _I want you to watch me," Quatre whispered, lips brushing the shell of Duo's ear._

_Duo could only let out an embarrassing whimper in response as Quatre let go of his wrists to coat his fingers in the liquid before reaching between his own legs and pushing in. Duo had obeyed beautifully; his hands stayed at his sides though they itched for the contact, and his eyes roamed over Quatre, hypnotized by the sight of him pleasuring himself, thrusting his fingers into his body and moaning unabashedly._

" _Whatever you say, your majesty," Duo teased._

" _You know I hate when you call me that," Quatre responded as a flash of annoyance crossed his face and he'd pulled his fingers out._

_Duo had taken the opportunity to sit up and switch their positions, hooking his arm around Quatre's waist and rolling over until he was slotted between the other man's legs._

" _But that's what you are, Quat," Duo continued, a mocking tone in his voice despite the fact that he was sucking bruises into the other man's collarbone, "a little prince."_

" _Don't be an asshole right now." Quatre had pulled back harshly on Duo's braid until he craned his neck so he could scrape his teeth along Duo's jawline, soothing the burn with his tongue. "Besides, if I'm a prince, what does that make you?"_

" _Your humble and devoted servant," Duo answered, without missing a beat, and the two men dissolved into a fit of laughter._

_They'd collapsed into each other as their bodies shook and their laughs cut through the silence of the bedroom. Quatre had wrapped his arms around Duo and brought him closer, nuzzling into his neck. Duo loved Quatre like this most of all, playful and soft-hearted, enveloping him in his arms and bringing him closer than he'd ever been to another human._

_Quatre, who didn't mind his morning breath and his awfully tangled braid and who could switch in an instant from provocatively tempting him with a slow roll of his hips to giggling mindlessly like a child. Quatre, who let himself be possessed by Duo over and over again, in every position known to man and on every flat surface they could find and who only asked that he stay in the morning and smiled widely when he agreed, as if he had given him the world. Quatre, who brought him to his knees and didn't even realize it._

" _You know I worship you."_

_Duo had meant it to come out as teasing and light-hearted as their previous banter but the truth in the statement made his voice soft and raw. Quatre's breath had caught in his throat and Duo could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He was vulnerable then; trapped by Quatre's intense gaze and by a strangely familiar feeling settling into his stomach and making it harder to breathe. Quatre opened his mouth to speak, but Duo had moved, clutching blindly around the bedside table until his hands found a condom. He'd refused to meet Quatre's gaze as he tore the wrapper and rolled the condom onto his hard length._

_The air had been tinged with an otherworldly undercurrent-electric and alluring—that made everything feel different and new. They had fucked countless times but that time was..._

" _Duo, I-"_

_Whatever Quatre had wanted to say was lost when Duo had suddenly pushed himself into him, knocking the breath out of him in one tantalizingly fluid motion. He'd pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in, loving the feel of skin on skin and the filthy sound it made. His pace had been languid, much slower than their usual encounters, as if the sleep they had recently awoken from made them lazy and indulgent. He'd dipped down to kiss Quatre, lips sliding and tongues fitting together perfectly, just like the rest of them. Quatre's hands had dug into the skin of his back, blunt nails scratching softly instead of raking red marks as was their custom. Instead, he'd let his hands explore the expanse of Duo's back before settling on his ass, kneading the muscle and making Duo thrust even deeper._

_Quatre had used his grasp to flip them over again, making sure that Duo's cock never left him. He'd sat himself astride his hips and screwed his eyes shut, letting out a breathless moan. Duo had only been able to clutch at his hips, fingers tight enough that he would leave bruises but he didn't care because he knew that Quatre loved it. He loved to be marked by him; to be his property and conversely, Duo found a perverse sort of pleasure knowing that he was the only person to ever have Quatre like this._

_Quatre, then, rode him harder and faster and Duo snapped his hips and met him thrust for thrust. Their rhythm had increased in speed as Quatre set the pace with an expert roll of his hips, while his hands were braced against Duo's torso._

" _Fuck," had been the only articulate thought in Duo's head as he looked up at Quatre, whose voice was coming out in wrecked little moans and whose muscles strained under his skin with effort._

_Duo'd fucked up into him harder, wanting so badly to get deeper than was possible. He'd wanted to be closer and closer and closer still; to crawl into Quatre's bones and never see the light of day again. He'd felt crazy and light-headed and still it was not enough. He'd wanted so much more._

_Watching Quatre fall apart was always his favorite part and from the position he'd been in, he had the perfect view of the elegant way Quatre arched his spine and threw his head back, a single word leaving his lips as he shuddered helplessly through his orgasm._

" _Duo."_

_And Duo had been given no choice but to join him, to come hard and violently, hips thrusting up without any artistry or grace. To be, once again, completely and utterly disarmed by a beautiful little rich boy, with impeccable manners and open and kind eyes that seem to see through every defense he'd ever built._

That day, they had showered together and Duo had helped Quatre make breakfast. Afterwards, they had taken Quatre's foster dog on a long walk through the park and Duo felt an insane urge to hold his hand. The whole day had been strangely domestic and the fact that Duo didn't feel like running for the proverbial hills made him feel petrified.

He was being absolutely ridiculous, but he just couldn't control himself. The six whiskey sours he had drunk in quick succession probably didn't help matters, either.

Duo felt pitiful, sitting in yet another darkly lit seedy bar, drinking much more than was reasonable for a Monday night and doing something dangerously close to moping. To top it all off, Wufei was sitting next to him in the bar, holding a glass of water and basically chaperoning his drinking binge.

"This is so lame," Duo slurred.

Wufei threw him a sidelong glance. "I'm inclined to agree, but I have it on good authority that getting obnoxiously drunk is customary after a break-up."

"We didn't break up," Duo all but snarled, "we were never together."

"Then you probably don't need this." Wufei responded by taking the half-empty bottle of beer out of Duo's grasp. Duo only snorted petulantly.

 _We were never together, we were never together, we were never together_. Duo repeated the phrase in his head like a mantra, hoping that maybe it would become truer the more he thought it, but the words felt empty and hollow. An awful lot like he felt at the moment. Fucking shit.

"Maxwell, can I interrupt whatever asinine thoughts are going through your head for a moment?"

Duo glared at Wufei before turning around in his barstool to face the rest of the bar. Wufei followed suit, clearing his throat, uncomfortably. He took a deep breath and Duo wondered what the hell was making Wufei so awkward suddenly.

"Can I tell you something I've never told anyone before?" Wufei waited for Duo's nod before continuing. "I have never been in love."

Duo blinked a few times, feeling utterly bewildered. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to that. Luckily, Wufei kept talking.

"Look, the other day as I was leaving work, I overheard Noin and Zechs arguing outside the building. I knew they were working late on that Mars project and that's probably what they were fighting about. I mean, they were really going at it, I thought I might have to intervene but then the strangest thing happened. Right in the middle of this huge fight, Zechs reached over to Noin, put his hands on her shoulders and just said, 'I'm sorry.' And that was it. The fight was over."

"That's very touching and all but what's your point, exactly?"

"The point is that they obviously cared about whatever they were arguing about, enough to scream at each other. They were so passionate about it, it was kind of alarming, actually. I've never felt that for someone."

Duo frowned. "What about Sally?"

Wufei sighed before saying, "I care about her, I respect her. I love her. But..."

"You've never felt borderline insane over her," Duo finished helpfully.

Wufei nodded.

"And you think that's what I have with Quatre?" Duo asked.

"I won't pretend to know the details of your relationship with Winner. All I know is that over the past few years I've rarely seen either of you get worked up about anything other than each other."

"'Fei, I already told you-"

"I know what you told me. I also know that as much as you pretend not to care, you are torn up about him seeing Barton. Not because you're being protective, but because it makes you feel like shit that he'd give up on you."

Duo's mouth hung open in shock at Wufei's harsh dose of reality. "So my advice," he continued, "is to stop being an ass and just apologize. Winner will forgive you because for some unfathomable reason, he seems to think you're worth his time. And you know what? Underneath all that bravado and bullshit, you are."

Duo could only stare at Wufei. For the first time in his life, he was struck speechless.


	4. What Burns Inside You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo and Trowa have a tense conversation and Duo hatches a genius plan that backfires tremendously.

 

"As we are floating in the blue  
I am softly watching you  
Oh, boy your eyes betray what burns inside you

Whatever I feel for you  
You only seem to care about you  
Is there any chance you could see me too?"

- _I Love You_ , Woodkid

The rest of the week passed relatively uneventfully. Wufei had the foresight to keep Quatre and Duo apart, placing the former on Relena's personal security detail and the latter on desk duty. Duo wasn't sure which task was worse, but he was thankful for the reprieve. He needed the time to get his thoughts in order, even though they weren't really any more clear than a week before. Still, he was trying and that had to count for something.

It was Friday night, and Duo could hardly keep his eyes open and focused on the final draft of his mission report. He took a pause, leaning back to rub at his eyes. Duo looked around the office and noticed that he was alone; all the other agents had probably left long ago and most of the lights in the building had been turned off. With a long suffering sigh, he pushed off his chair, bones creaking in protest of the sudden change.

 _I'm getting too old for this_ , Duo thought bitterly.

He stepped out into the stale colony air, the artificial colony light dimmed in an effort to emulate night time. They never got it quite right, though, it was always painfully clear how far away from Earth they truly were.

Duo was going to go straight to Wufei's place, he truly was. He was planning on collapsing into the couch that had become his home and passing out immediately. But he happened to walk by a particularly lively dive bar. That happened to have a ridiculously hot, dark-haired boy in a leather jacket two sizes too big for him, holding a lit cigarette up to his lips. That happened to wink at him. And Duo couldn't resist an invitation like that, now could he?

He walked into the bar, making sure he caught the dark-haired boy's eyes before sauntering inside. The heat from inside the bar was nearly overwhelming and Duo shrugged off his Preventers' jacket and shoved it inside his messenger bag. He walked up to the bar, ordered his usual drink and sat down on the barstool, facing the waiter. From the corner of his eye, Duo spotted the dark-haired boy making his way over to him, like a moth to a flame. He looked down at his drink, knowing he had that innocent-looking boy eating of the palm of his hand when a familiar voice greeted him.

"Hello, Duo. What an unexpected surprise."

Duo felt the blood in his veins run cold, caught between the urge to turn around and punch that voice in the face and ignoring it completely. He put on his best shit-eating grin, turned around unnecessarily slowly in his chair and faced the man who called himself Trowa Barton.

"Fancy meeting you here, zero-three," Duo responded, enjoying the way Trowa tensed visibly when called by his codename.

There was no immediate danger to them anymore, especially Trowa, who had disassociated himself from the pilots so much that very few people even knew he had once been a soldier. The move had been calculated to remind Trowa that he would always be one of them, no matter how much time passed and how much distance he put between them. It was a dick move, in all honesty, but then, Duo wasn't feeling particularly chummy with his former ally. Especially since he'd intercepted dark-haired boy's trajectory and pretty much ruined all chances Duo had of a hook up.

"It's been a while," Trowa said and his smooth voice still gave Duo chills.

He still loomed over Duo, despite the years. He still moved with graceful ease and an impossible confidence that made him an enigma. He still had those bright green eyes that seemed like they'd seen too much.

"I almost didn't recognize you without the..." Duo gestured vaguely at his face, determined to keep his cool even though Trowa's presence made him feel small.

Trowa smiled ruefully. "Oh, I cut my hair many years ago. It kept getting in my way."

"I meant the clown mask."

For a second, Trowa's eyes widened in disbelief at Duo's petulance, but the cool exterior quickly settled back onto his face. He pulled up another barstool and sat next to Duo, uninvited. "You're still quite the comedian, I see. Quatre mentioned that."

Duo stiffened at the comment. He had fired the first shot and he expected retaliation, but he hadn't expected that the mere mention of Quatre's name would affect him so viscerally.

"I'm sure he mentioned a lot of things about me. How's he doing, anyway?" Duo's asked through gritted teeth.

"He's good," Trowa answered in a clipped tone that indicated that Quatre was most definitely not good, "I actually wanted to talk to you about that." Duo rolled his eyes but remained seated, his curiosity getting the better of him once again. Trowa ordered a drink and Duo was glad for the break from this tense conversation, but as soon as the bartender left, Trowa continued. "I know you don't like me, Duo, and honestly, you're not my favorite person in the world either. But I need your help, and I don't know who else to go to."

Duo blanched, not knowing how to take this odd turn of events. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"Nine years is a long time and Quatre is, well, very different from what I remember. I'm not really sure how to...approach certain subjects."

Duo frowned in confusion. "Why don't you just ask him?"

Trowa shook his head, "I know you don't trust me-"

"Of course I don't trust you," Duo interrupted, "You led him on for a long time. He fucking adored you, and you just broke his heart."

"Yeah, well, you were there to pick up the pieces. Very convenient."

"Are you kidding me? Listen to yourself. I didn't pick up the pieces,  _he_  did. He's a grown man, not a damsel in distress."

Trowa and Duo quietened down as the bartender returned with Trowa's drink. They remained silent for a stretch of time. Duo felt annoyed at the way Trowa's ice clinked against the glass every time he took a sip. Trowa broke the silence, his voice coming out even despite the undercurrent of emotion in it.

"I was sixteen."

Duo wanted to come up with a smart ass remark, but he really couldn't argue. The end of the war seemed like ages ago. They had all been so young, so naïve to even think that they were anything but teenagers. So full of hope and righteousness, even as the world dealt them tough blow after tough blow. And when the war finally finished, they had all floundered, each in their own way. Duo couldn't blame Trowa for wanting to walk away from all the horrors they'd experienced and committed. He took a deep breath, then downed the rest of his drink before ordering another one.

"So what do you need?" Duo found himself asking, even as his mind protested.

Trowa looked surprised for a moment, something almost like  _touched,_ but Duo knew not to expect anything like emotion from the man who had destroyed his beloved Deathscythe. Yeah, he was still kind of peeved at that.

"We've been on few dates but every time we're out together he seems incredibly awkward. I'm not sure why."

"Where are you taking him?"

"The most expensive restaurants on the colony. It's breaking my wallet, actually, but I figured I'd try to make him comfortable and show him I can live his life and all that."

Duo's bark of laughter rang out in the small bar, making more than a few heads turn. "Well, there's your problem, Quat _hates_ places like that. No wonder you're not getting laid."

"I thought that's how he grew up. And how in the hell would you know if I was getting laid or not?" Trowa asked, confusion and indignation coloring his voice.

"Exactly, genius, that's why he hates it. Believe me, I know the face of a man who's getting laid and that ain't it," Duo finished by pointing at Trowa's face.

"So we're taking things slow. Not everyone gets into bed with the first warm body that shows interest," came Trowa's calm reply.

"I'm going to chalk that one up to jealousy and ignore it," Duo said, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. "Look, man, you think of Quatre as this delicate creature that needs to be coddled and it couldn't be further from the truth. You want to know his dirty little secret? He, honest to God, misses the war. He misses Sandrock and fighting for a cause. It's why he couldn't live his life running his father's company, it's why he goes to target practice and off-the-grid camping on the weekends, it's why every vacation break we get he doesn't visit his family on L4. He goes to Earth and spends all his time reminiscing with the Maganacs. He's tougher than we ever gave him credit for, especially you."

Duo stood up, finishing his tirade and his drink at the same time, filled with a need to put as much distance between himself and Trowa as possible.

But not before one final jab. "You want to know why he's not fucking you? Because he doesn't trust you. Nine years of no contact and suddenly you're back, out of the blue? Please. He can see right through your bullshit."

Trowa turned in his seat, facing Duo as he gathered his messenger bag. "And here I thought it's because he respects me."

Duo turned to face Trowa then, anger boiling in his veins, fists trembling. Before he could open his mouth to utter a scathing reply, an idea struck him. He plastered a smirk on his face, cocked his head, and spun around, walking towards the exit. If Duo knew Quatre as well as he thought, then he knew exactly what his next move should be.

 

* * *

 

Quatre Winner was, without a doubt, utterly- _bone-crushingly_ -exhausted. This week had felt interminable as he bounced from dealing with security issues, to stressful dates with Trowa, to trying to keep his mind off of the fact that he hadn't even talked to Duo since their last terse conservation at work. Quatre felt out of sorts as he entered his apartment, all but throwing his bag onto the floor and flopping ungraciously onto the living room couch. How the hell had his life gotten to such an incredibly awkward and unexpected point?

It was probably his fault, somehow. He knew the moment he picked up that video call from Trowa that whatever came from that conversation was only going to complicate his life. It had been nine years since the two had last spoken, since he'd even seen the taller man's face. But he felt nostalgic and frankly, emotionally vulnerable, since his last blow out fight with Duo and, at the time, it really seemed like a good idea.

Quatre had not expected that Trowa would ask him out on a date. He definitely had not expected to accept, either.

But how was he to know that Trowa would be so unbelievably gorgeous, even on a small video screen? How was Quatre to know that he would be charming, that his voice would have lowered a timber, that he would have learned to smile? It was almost unfair, the way that Trowa still made his stomach flutter like some sort of school yard crush.

Quatre groaned in frustration as he lifted himself off his couch and shuffled over to his music player. He searched through his record collection (a tiny elitist part of him still maintained that records were far superior to the more modern forms of music projection) and found what he was looking for. The sounds of Tchaikovsky's 'Violin Concerto in D Major' filled his apartment and for a moment, letting himself get carried away by the wave of sound, Quatre felt calm washing over him.

A familiar itch nagged at him then, and he sought out his own violin. It was something Quatre often did when unrest plagued his mind. He played his own violin in time with the symphony, his fingers moving expertly along the neck and fingerboard as his other hand glided the bow along the strings. Beautiful melodies filled his ears and mind until there was nothing left. Nothing but the crescendo of music and the lone violin, expressing an emotion that no words could articulate. He was so enraptured that he barely heard the knock on his door.

Reluctantly, Quatre let his hands drop and placed the violin carefully on the wooden dining table before crossing to the living room. He wasn't expecting anyone; he and Trowa hadn't scheduled a date and Duo was the only other person who-

Of course, it was going to be Duo. Quatre steeled himself, readying himself for a confrontation that had been a long time coming, before he opened the door.

Duo stood leaning against the doorway, a lazy grin on his face and a bottle of wine in his hands. Quatre rolled his eyes in sheer disbelief that Duo had the gall to show up on his doorstep like nothing had changed between them.

"Thought you could use a little pick me up," Duo drawled, his voice gruff and seductive, "heard you've had a rough week." He punctuated his sentence by winking shamelessly and strolling inside the apartment like he owned the place. Which, for all intents and purposes, he basically did.

Quatre tried his damn hardest not to notice the sway of Duo's hips as he walked straight into the kitchen and pulled out two wine glasses.

"What is this? You don't even like wine." Quatre was proud of the way his voice sounded even and undisturbed, despite the way his dick took special notice of the black, tight jeans Duo was wearing. This was obviously a set-up. Duo  _knew_  how much Quatre loved those stupid pants.

Duo smirked as he poured the wine into the cups. "Yeah, but I know you do. I've seen you drink the stuff like it's fruit juice. And, being the  _amazing_  friend that I am, I wanted to bring you a token of peace."

"Peace, huh?" Quatre asked, eyebrow raised.

Duo only smiled wider in response, holding out a glass for Quatre to take. There was something so ridiculously charming in his smile that Quatre found himself accepting the drink, knowing full well that he was being taken for a fool.

It was always this way with them. Quatre still recalled the first time he laid eyes on the alluring Duo Maxwell. He was immediately taken with his quick wit and enticing sensuality. Trowa may have been the boy who awakened his desire for men but Duo was the one who had taught Quatre everything he wanted to know and more. Trowa had always been a mystery, but Duo was open and honest, painfully so. And though Quatre was a seasoned Gundam pilot, one of the men who had helped save the world, he was still only human. There was only so much time he could stand being this close to the Shinigami without kissing that cocky grin off his face.

Standing here in his apartment, the swell of music enveloping them, Quatre could almost imagine that things were back to normal.

"Is this that composer whose name I can't pronounce?" Duo asked.

"You can't pronounce any of their names," Quatre responded, his tone light and teasing, "but, yes, this is Tchaikovsky."

Duo's smile fell then, his lips pursed in concentration and Quatre looked on, studying the miniscule changes of his face. "Is this the violin concerto in... D minor? No, D major, right?"

"Yes," Quatre answered quietly, hoping to keep the shock out of his voice.

It was no secret that Duo was an incredibly smart individual, but that he'd take the time to learn something that clearly meant so much to Quatre was sweet. Sweet in the way that only Duo knew how to be. Suddenly and without cause.

"So tell me about your week."

Duo moved behind Quatre, setting his wine glass down to massage his slim shoulders. Quatre couldn't help the way his muscles responded so positively to Duo and his talented hands and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

"Relena's security people are a nightmare. They don't listen to anything Noin and I tell them and—" A shiver ran down his spine as Duo inched closer. Quatre could feel the heat of Duo's chest pressing close against his back.

"And?" Quatre could practically hear the smile in Duo's voice as he posed his question.

"And it's just been hard, I guess." Quatre inhaled sharply as Duo's hands moved down his back to find purchase on his hips. "Duo, what are you doing?"

Duo's voice was low and rasping, his breath blowing in Quatre's ear as his lips brushed the shell. "I'm just trying to help you relax, Quat."

Quatre felt his patience thinning. "Is that it? Because it seems a lot more like you're trying to fuck me."

"Oh, Quat," Duo drawled, "you know I don't care who fucks who."

Quatre spun around quickly, determined to give Duo Maxwell a piece of his mind, but he made a fatal error. He was now wrapped in Duo's strong arms, looking up into hypnotizing indigo eyes and a perfect jaw line. He swallowed thickly.

"You know I can't do this," Quatre's voice sounded weak to his own ears.

He only smiled, and held Quatre even closer. "I thought you and Trowa weren't exclusive."

"That's not why." Quatre carefully extricated himself from Duo's arms, despite the way his body protested. He walked across the living room, hand reaching out instinctively to brush the dark wood of his violin.

"I heard you playing before I knocked on the door," Duo said, changing the subject when he noticed Quatre's hesitation. Quatre only nodded, knocking back the rest of the glass of wine and already feeling the effects settling into his bones. "Don't let me stop you."

Quatre should have said no. He should have kicked Duo out of his apartment and locked the door. He should have. He didn't.

He picked up his violin, placed his jaw on the chin rest and let his eyes fall shut as he began to play in tune with the music once again.

This scene had played out many times before. After Duo had begun spending the night in his apartment, Quatre had been confused about what that meant. So he'd done what he usually did in times of mental turmoil; he pulled out his violin and played. To Quatre, it was nothing remarkable. He'd been playing since he was a child. The instrument was forced upon him, a rite of passage for the upper class, and he'd initially abhorred the endless music lessons. But as time passed and his skill grew, Quatre had managed to make the experience his own. It was the one thing he thanked his father for forcing him to do.

Quatre could still recall clearly how Duo had reacted the first time he'd heard him play. He had come out of the bedroom, still nude, and striding softly as if in a daze. Quatre had stopped playing, thinking that he'd woken Duo, but the other man had asked him to continue playing in a hushed tone and Quatre had obliged. The way Duo had stared at Quatre, lips parted, awe evident on his face, still made Quatre's skin tingle. Quatre had played for almost on hour while Duo watched him intently, without saying a word.

Now, Duo still stared at Quatre as intensely as that first time. He still looked at Quatre like he was the only thing in the world. Was it really any wonder that Duo had him so captivated? How could Quatre resist the handsome man with the devil-may-care attitude and the sly look? The man who made him feel so completely loved without ever having to say the words.

But that was the issue, wasn't it. That Duo loved him was obvious, but he still held back. He would deny his own heart until the end of his days, or at least, Quatre had convinced himself of that fact, so that he could finally put an end to their 'non-relationship' relationship. Duo would never say the words and he'd never make the commitment, so why keep fooling themselves? Quatre wanted something solid and Duo was like grains of sand, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold on.

Quatre was brought out of his reverie by a sudden movement from across the room. Duo sauntered towards him, eyes darkened by a dangerous glint. Quatre continued playing, letting the notes ease his troubled mind. He sucked in a gasp as Duo dropped to his knees in front of him, hands deftly unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers down to his ankles. Duo's forehead rested on Quatre's taut stomach as he pecked quick kisses to the muscles of his abs and nipped at Quatre's growing erection.

The violin made an awful screeching sound when Duo took Quatre's hard length into his mouth. He pulled back with an obscene  _pop_  and smirked up at Quatre. "Don't lose your touch there, zero-four."

"Fuck," Quatre breathed out. Duo knew how much he loved being called by his codename. He knew everything about him, knew exactly what buttons to push, what words to whisper to make him a writhing, moaning mess.

"Keep playing," Duo said, breath blowing across Quatre's sensitive skin. Quatre felt indignant for a second before Duo wrapped his lips around his cock once again and all Quatre could do was obey.

The notes resonated in the apartment. Quatre struggled to control his breath and instincts but Duo's clever tongue was making a mockery of his efforts. He finally surrendered, placing the violin back on the table and hauling Duo roughly to his feet.

Quatre kissed Duo viciously, teeth biting at the other man's lips, as he pushed him back harshly until he flipped him onto the couch.

"Fuck you, Duo," Quatre gritted out, even as his fingers were lifting Duo's shirt off his torso.

"If that's what you want, babe."

"I hate your stupid pet names," Quatre said, each word separated by a sharp bite at Duo's neck. He felt an overwhelming anger boiling in his veins almost as strong as the need to have all of Duo right fucking now.

Duo shifted their positions so abruptly that Quatre's head spun. He lay on his side and slotted himself behind Quatre, his hand reaching around to stroke Quatre's cock as he whispered obscenities in his ear. "You love my pet names, just like you love playing that violin. I know it gets you all hot and bothered, how damn talented you are. I know it makes your cock so hard."

Quatre's breath came in short bursts as he felt the pleasure building in his center and spreading throughout his body. His skin buzzed, overly sensitive and Quatre wondered whether it was the result of the wine or the intoxicating nature of Duo.

"I know you love to play and I know you love it when I watch you. Don't worry, Quat, I love it, too."

Quatre blushed scarlet when an embarrassing whimper left his lips at Duo's words. The low chuckle he received from Duo was just unfair.

"I get so fucking turned on watching you play. Watching your fingers make those gorgeous sounds come out of that violin. You're fucking amazing, you know that?"

Quatre's hands reached around to pull Duo's dick out of his, thankfully, already unbuttoned jeans. He lined Duo's length with his entrance, arching his back wantonly and rutting against Duo. Duo sucked in a harsh breath and Quatre already knew how this would end. They couldn't resist each other, no matter how wrong it was for them to be together. This was where they always found themselves. Ever since that moonlit night when he had so brazenly offered up his innocence to a clever street rat - and wouldn't father just be so proud of his perfect little boy? - Quatre had only let one person have this side of him. Duo was the boy who had taught him about frenzied passion and the kind of tenderness that made one's heart ache and Quatre was never going to be able to walk away from that.

"Quat, you're so-"

"Shut up," Quatre interrupted, unable to take much more of Duo's sweet talking. "Just, shut up and do it now."

Duo placed a quick kiss on Quatre's temple, and Quatre felt the smile against his skin. "I love it when you get all bossy."

Quatre smiled, too, feeling so unreasonable and alive in the way only Duo could make him feel. But then, Quatre heard the tell-tale sound of a condom wrapper and felt his heart sink. Of course, Duo had fucked someone else. Of course, he didn't give a shit about him. He never would care about Quatre the same way he idiotically cared about him. Quatre felt disgusted with himself as he let Duo prepare him. How could the same man who prepared him so carefully be the same man who fucked someone else the moment he was out of sight? When the tears welled up in his eyes, he tried to blink them away. At least Duo was behind him.

"Hey, Quat, what's wrong?" Duo's voice was all earnest concern and Quatre couldn't take it anymore.

"It doesn't matter, just fuck me already, Duo. It's the only thing you want so just do it already."

Quatre felt Duo go stock still behind him, and he reached behind him to grab at Duo and get this part over with. Duo shoved his hand away. The haunting melody had ended long ago and now the only sound in the apartment was Quatre's shuddering breaths as he struggled to control himself. Twenty-five years old and almost crying over a boy. The whole thing would be hilarious if it wasn't so pathetic.

Both men sat up on the couch, neither daring to break the strained silence. Duo finally spoke up after a few minutes. "Is that really what you think?"

"What am I supposed to think?" Quatre answered darkly.

"Quatre, look at me," Duo's voice came out strained as he cupped Quatre's chin and forced their eyes to meet. "That's not true."

"Duo, I don't want to talk about it, alright."  _What else was there even left to say?_ he thought. "Just fuck me and leave."

The  _again_  was left out of the sentence but both men knew it was there.

Duo didn't reply, he stroked Quatre's unruly bangs out of his face and looked into his eyes. Quatre stared back at impossible-colored eyes. That was best way to describe Duo. An impossible man. Quatre watched the muscles in Duo's throat move as he gulped and nodded. He gently pushed Quatre's shoulders back until he was flat on his back against the couch and settled himself between his opened legs. Duo pushed himself inside, slowly, and Quatre felt nauseous.

Duo must have read the discomfort on his face because he leaned down and claimed his lips in a slow kiss, a tender sliding of lips that almost made Quatre forget about everything. He continued kissing Quatre's face, his cheekbones, his forehead, with such fondness that Quatre found himself kissing back. Soon, he was rocking his hips, meeting every one of Duo's thrusts as he felt Duo getting closer and closer to the spot inside him that made him forget.

"You're so beautiful."

Quatre almost didn't hear Duo, the words barely above a whisper. But then Duo spoke louder, his voice shaky with pleasure and emotion alike. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

Quatre didn't respond, but he kissed Duo despite himself.

"I know I should let you walk away," Duo moaned out.

"You're killing me, Duo," Quatre's voice sounded broken.

Duo thrusts became harder still, making the couch creak under them and Quatre's legs wrapped even tighter around his waist. "I know, I know. I should let you go. But I can't-"

Duo's sentence broke off as he groaned. His rhythm was faltering and Quatre knew he was close to the edge. It would all be over soon.

"I love you."

Quatre thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Surely, he hadn't truly heard what he thought he had. But then Duo started repeating it over and over again, like a prayer, his voice breaking with the heaviness of the words and the pleasure that was threatening to overwhelm him.

"Fuck, Quatre, I love you," Duo said as he came hard and loud. Quatre followed seconds later, spurred to orgasm by Duo's hand working his cock.

Duo buried his face in Quatre's neck and Quatre thought about how surreal this entire night had been. Their chests rose and fell together in unison, and Quatre basked in the feel of Duo, bonelessly lying on top of him and in the warm glow the three little words managed to light in his chest. He stroked Duo's hair softly, feeling contented and complete.

Finally, Duo rose up on his arms and eased himself out of Quatre. He looked down at him with emotion shining in his eyes and Quatre smiled at him slowly. Duo graced him with a smile, too, until the gears started turning in his head and the smile faded. He stood up quickly, tugging his clothes back on, leaving Quatre still-half naked on the couch, utterly confounded.

"Duo," Quatre began, but Duo quickly interrupted him.

"I gotta go," he snapped, eyes widened in fear.

"Wait!" Quatre called out after him, but Duo was already halfway through the front door of the apartment, slamming it loudly behind him.

Quatre sighed loudly, feeling more frustrated than he had previously thought humanly possible, and collapsed back onto the couch, his arm raised over his face. There was officially no way in hell that this week could get any worse.


	5. Goodbye, Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Quatre makes a decision and tries to find comfort in Trowa.

 

Commander Chang's office looked more like a small library than an office. The space was filled with metal shelves holding a wide array of books. They stretched out behind his desk, and littered every available surface. Quatre thought it was rather fitting for Wufei, who undoubtedly held the most interest in scholarly pursuits of all the former pilots. Presently, the man himself was sitting behind his desk, scribbling madly in his notebook while Quatre sat opposite him, wringing his wrists and tapping his foot nervously.

Wufei cleared his throat pointedly and looked up from his desk. "Winner, not that I don't enjoy your company but you've been sitting here for almost five minutes without saying anything."

"Sorry, sir," Quatre responded politely.

"Don't apologize," Wufei said, setting his pen down and giving Quatre his full attention. "You wanted this meeting, so go on. I'm a very busy man."

Quatre nodded and gulped. He'd thought about what he was going to say all weekend—how to phrase the words exactly right—but somehow, sitting in his Commander's office in the bright early morning, he began to question himself. Was he doing the right thing?

"I'd like to request a transfer."

Wufei raised a single eyebrow and shifted in his chair. Before he could open his mouth to respond, Quatre clarified. "A permanent transfer, sir. To Earth."

Before the start of Operation Meteor, Quatre had run away to Earth.  _To find myself,_  he had told Rashid, innocence and hope coloring his words. He'd lost the boy he used to be a long time ago and this was a good thing. Quatre was no longer naïve and inexperienced and for that, he was glad. But there were some things he missed about the boy he'd left behind. He missed being hopeful instead of jaded. He wanted to go back to that, and he figured that now, with the one thing tethering him to the colonies essentially over, this was the perfect time to find himself once again. Of course, it was difficult to explain all that to Wufei, so they sat in a heavy silence for a few moments.

Wufei took a deep breath. "You're one of my best agents, Winner. I trust you've given this a lot of thought and consideration before you came to me so I'm not going to patronize you by trying to convince you to stay here. I hope you know, though, that you will be greatly missed."

Quatre smiled slightly. "I'll miss working here, too, sir. I just think it's time for a change."

Wufei inclined his head. "Please, Wufei. I'm not your Commander anymore, right? Although with all the paperwork and red tape, it might take a few weeks—maybe even a month—before you're on Earth."

Quatre looked up sharply at that. The unease must have been written clearly across his face because a look of sympathy crossed Wufei's usually unreadable features and he sighed before he continued."But I can call in a few favors and get you there in a couple of days, if you'd like."

"That would be perfect," Quatre smiled somewhat ruefully, "I'd like to be assigned to the Sanc Kingdom if that's possible."

"Sanc Kingdom?"

"Yes, si—Wufei."

"Sally's got some family down there, if you need a place to stay."

"No, thank you. I've already got a place."

Quatre noticed Wufei perk up considerably at his statement, a grin spreading across his face. Quatre hoped he hadn't given too much away.

"Is that so? You know I always suspected out of all of us, he'd keep in touch with you."

Quatre blinked nonchalantly, "I have no idea who you're referring to."

The lie rolled easily off his tongue; he wasn't a Preventer agent for nothing. But then again, Wufei wasn't a Commander for nothing, either.

Wufei only smiled and stood from his desk. Quatre rose from his seat as well and the two men stood facing each other, sizing each other up. They had been comrades as teenagers, years ago, when they were too young to understand how unbreakable that bond would be. Now as men, they were co-workers and friends, and Quatre felt a familiar twinge of his heart at the thought of a permanent goodbye. But, such was life, he supposed. No use in getting overly sentimental now. He'd made his choice.

Wufei grasped the hand he offered in a tight handshake. "You've been a good friend, Quatre. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you, Wufei. For everything," Quatre said, his voice remaining even.

"Are you free for lunch today? If this is essentially your last day on the job, perhaps I should take you to eat. Ever been to  _Lucky Chang's?_ "

Quatre smiled, "I think I'll be too busy, Relena's got a slew of lunch meetings to attend. Besides, isn't that a bit like nepotism?"

Wufei blanched at the joke, staring at Quatre with an odd expression on his face that the other man couldn't quite decipher. Wufei finally broke the awkward silence that had settled between them.

"Quatre, does Maxwell know?"

"No, he doesn't know yet," came the calm reply. "I'll tell him."

Wufei only nodded as Quatre shut the door behind him and rushed out of the building. He wasn't avoiding Duo, per se, he simply had a limited amount of time to get to the hotel where he was meeting with Agent Noin and the Vice Foreign Minister's security team. At least, that's what he told himself. He'd be lying if he said that what had transpired between hadn't shaken him to his core. But he'd be damned if he let it break his spirit.

The walk to the hotel was long and soothing in the way monotonous activities had become to Quatre. Not much seemed exciting after having had an integral role in saving planet Earth and the space colonies so Quatre had taught himself to find the positive in repetitiveness. He looked up at the metallic roof of the colony-stretching out above him like an endless storm cloud—and struggled to recall exactly what the Earthen sky looked like. He could recall night-time perfectly; the immense darkness dotted by sparks of starlight and occasionally, his favorite thing about the Earth, the beautiful moon. But a sunset was a bit harder to recall and he found it abnormally difficult to picture a sunny day perfectly. He had to concentrate to imagine the expanse of azure broken by wisps of white and this troubled him. It had been too long since he'd been to the Earth.

Quatre, caught up in his musings, barely recognized the figure leaning against the back entrance to the hotel. Familiar emerald eyes locked onto his and he stopped abruptly.

"Hi, Quatre," Trowa said, his voice as smooth and alluring as ever.

"Hey, Trowa. How did you know to find me here?"

"I'm a former Gundam pilot, figuring out the hotel the Vice Foreign Minister is staying at is really not a problem." He stepped off the wall, his gait graceful and controlled as he stepped closer and closer to Quatre. "So, do you have any plans for tonight?"

Quatre ran through his mental checklist. He still had to pack, although he didn't think the task would take long as he wasn't planning on bringing all of his belongings on the shuttle. He only needed to pack his essentials. After that, his plan was to get blackout drunk alone, in his old apartment and probably reminisce a bit too much about his old life. His flight was in two days (a fact he'd neglected to tell Wufei) so he had plenty of time.

"Nothing important, I guess."

Trowa smirked, and stepped even closer to the shorter man, crowding him. "Good, because I want to give you this." He reached into his jacket, pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to Quatre, who looked up questioningly. "That's a ticket to tonight's performance," Trowa stated, "I want you to come. Afterwards, we can go out to dinner. What do you say?"

That certainly sounded a lot more appealing than the night he had planned, so Quatre took the offered ticket and tilted his head to smile at Trowa. He figured that this would probably be a good time to kiss the tall man who had been the subject of most of his teenage fantasies, but things were so awkward between them now. Quatre recalled his time aboard Peacemillion, where amidst the constant stress of battle, the two pilots had found themselves sneaking off to every corner, kissing madly and rutting against each other. Trowa had always stopped their encounters from going further and Quatre hadn't questioned him. But if he'd spent a good chunk of his free time masturbating to thoughts of Trowa, well, no one had to know.

"I should get inside," Quatre uttered, noticing how close Trowa's face was to his lips. All he had to do was balance on the balls of his feet to make their lips touch. Instead, he gulped involuntarily before ducking his head and stepping back. "I'll see you tonight then."

Quatre tried not to notice the way Trowa stared at him, even as his back was turned. "See you tonight."

 

* * *

 

Tonight came much sooner than Quatre was prepared for. The tickets stated the show would begin at seven o'clock, a perfect time for all the families that would surely attend the performance. Quatre barely had time to rush home and change out of his Preventers uniform. He searched his room, diving under the bed to fish out his dress shoes and rummaging through piles of clothes wildly before realizing that all of his nice dress shirts were in an unwashed laundry pile. Trowa would undoubtedly take him to another needlessly expensive restaurant and he had to dress the part.

Racing against the clock, Quatre looked through a box of old clothes tucked away in the darkest corner of his closet and pulled out the only collared shirt he could find. He moaned helplessly when he brought it to the center of the room, holding the fabric up to the light. It  _would_  be the shirt that made him the butt of so many of Duo's jokes when they were fifteen and on the run. Back on Earth. Back when the only complications in their lives came from OZ's nefarious schemes, not each other's feelings.

Quatre huffed out a breath in defeat and shoved his arm in the sleeve. He wasn't sure it would even fit anymore, but he was pressed for time and something like nostalgia was coming over him. He finished pulling on the shirt to find that the shoulders were a bit too tight, but not unreasonably so. The sleeves were definitely too short, so he carefully folded the cuffs until both sleeves were up to his elbows. He took a moment to look in the mirror at his hair, shaggy and unruly - he really did need to get it cut soon - and the dark circles under his eyes and he wondered what the hell he was doing. He looked at his watch, muttering an "oh shit," before springing to action and dashing out of his apartment.

Almost an hour later, Quatre sat in the audience of a sold-out show, looking up at the roof of the big tent, absolutely mesmerized. Trowa truly was an acrobat the likes of which Quatre had never seen. He moved effortlessly from one trapeze swing to the next, his muscles rippling in the spotlight and his features serene. He seemed to be barely concentrating on the act; swinging high above the crowd amidst hushed " _ohhs"_  and " _ahhs"_ were second nature to the auburn-haired man and he barely broke a sweat.

Quatre couldn't help the way his mind wandered to lustful thoughts. He wondered what fucking such a flexible person would be like, if he would bend his body in half just as easily while riding his dick. When another acrobat joined in the fray, Trowa easily picked up the slender body in his arms while his legs were hooked on the swing. This display of strength only brought Quatre's mind further into the gutter; his brain now filled with images of Trowa picking him up with ease and fucking him while standing.

When Trowa's act finished, Quatre shook his head, willing his dirty thoughts away. After all, there were children present. He rushed backstage once the crowd had settled and the applause had died down. Stray circus workers told him where Trowa's makeshift dressing room was located and he thanked them before running to the spot, hoping to reach the acrobat before his next act.

Quatre opened the tent flap and was greeted by the sight of Trowa's bare ass as he wriggled out of his tight spandex pants.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Quatre coughed, his cheeks turning a shade of beet red. Trowa pulled his pants up again and turned around to face the blonde.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, amusement evident in his smile.

"I—uh, I just wanted to, um, that was a great performance—and um..." Quatre stumbled over the words falling quickly from his mouth and he hoped that they were making some sort of sense and that he wasn't making a complete fool out of himself.

Trowa chuckled darkly and pointed at the item in Quatre's hands. "And those are?"

The flowers! Of course, caught up in his fantasy world, Quatre had forgotten all about the bouquet of roses he'd picked up for Trowa. "I didn't really know if it made sense. I know you give actors flowers after a performance, but I didn't know if, um, well—I got them for you." He held them out for Trowa to take.

"Thank you, they're lovely. I'm glad you enjoyed the show," Trowa smiled gently as he took the bouquet from Quatre's hands. His fingers grazed Quatre's hand and both men froze.

"I mean it. You were spectacular, Trowa," Quatre breathed out, suddenly feeling the need to practically whisper as he realized they were well and truly alone. "Where is everyone?"

"I don't have to go on again for a while..." Trowa, choosing to ignore Quatre's question, and lowering his voice to Quatre's level. His fingers gently tangled in Quatre's.

"Oh," Quatre responded eloquently.

Standing face to face, he could feel the heat from Trowa's toned body and see the light sheen of sweat that made his muscles glimmer even in the dim backstage lighting.

Quatre tried to control his breathing and to think of anything other than the luscious set of lips inching close and closer to him. He closed his eyes and for a brief moment, an image of Duo's wicked grin blossomed in his mind, like dark ink in clear water, and his eyes flew open again. Emerald eyes were mere inches away from him now and Quatre did the only thing he could think of to numb the sharp stab of pain he felt suddenly in his heart. He threw the flowers aside, wrapped his arms around Trowa's shoulders and kissed him furiously.

Their lips met viciously, teeth clanking together and tongues probing, and Trowa let out a sudden hiss of pain when Quatre bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He dove back in, one hand grabbing at Quatre's narrow hips while he buried the other in golden hair. He tugged on the handful of locks harshly, forcing Quatre to bare his neck. Trowa sucked a bruise into the pale skin, unapologetically biting down on the abused flesh and making Quatre cry out.

Trowa's fingers skilfully unbuttoned the familiar pastel-colored fabric of Quatre's shirt as the blonde fumbled with his own belt buckle. Trowa lowered himself to his knees, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the other man's inner thighs. When his hot breath blew across the evident bulge in Quatre's briefs, the blonde shivered and let out a shaky moan. Trowa pulled the white briefs down quickly, his mouth dipping down to envelop Quatre's length, but Quatre stopped him by clutching at his shoulder to pull him up. He attacked the tall man's mouth again, kissing as wildly as when they were messy teenagers. Their bodies rubbed together, and when Quatre felt the tell-tale hardness through the thin layers of fabric separating the two men, he knew he couldn't hold himself back.

Especially when Trowa stopped their kissing to moan out, "I want you."

"Now?" Quatre asked, struggling to catch his breath.

"Now," Trowa confirmed, pushing him backwards until his back hit a large wooden crate.

Quatre got the hint; when he felt the sharp corner dig into his back, he hopped up onto the flat surface, his trousers still wrapped around his ankles. Their mouths found each other again, like magnets, and Quatre's hands grasped at Trowa's torso and back, relishing the feel of hard muscle under his fingertips.

Trowa's hands were firmly set on Quatre's hips, positioning him just on the edge of the crate before and stepping into the space between his parted legs. Quatre's mouth found a sensitive pulse point in Trowa's neck that made the usually quiet man groan. When he felt Trowa reaching between his legs and pushing his index finger slowly inside, Quatre thought it was all going to be over too soon.

Somewhere in their frantic kissing, Trowa had found some form of lubrication because his fingers slid inside smoothly, though Quatre couldn't for the life of him recall when or where. He chalked up the oddity to Trowa's espionage training. Or perhaps the magic of the big tent. It didn't matter. Right now, all that mattered was that Trowa was inside him and making him feel hopelessly young and needing once again.

It was always going to happen, Quatre thought, as Trowa paused to slip a condom that seemed to appear out of thin air onto his thick length. Trowa lined his cock up with his entrance and pushed in so quickly that he knocked the breath out of him. This was an encounter almost a decade in the making—so many seemingly insignificant incidents had brought them together, and Quatre almost found himself believing in fate.

Trowa gripped his hips and pulled the smaller man onto his cock without remorse, establishing a rapid fire rhythm that made Quatre's head spin. He was simply along for the ride and he tried to lose himself in the sinful sounds of skin against skin and the relentless ache of being filled and emptied over and over again. Trowa's hips snapped almost robotically and Quatre reached between the two to pump his untouched dick.

It was over in minutes, Quatre letting out a sharp shout as he spurted white into his hand and Trowa following soon after, his rhythm impeccable even throughout his orgasm. The only sign that he had exhausted himself was the way he let his forehead rest on Quatre's shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath.

Quatre wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. When he was fifteen, he had foolishly hoped that the first time he and Trowa had sex would be accompanied by fireworks and sweet music and declarations of undying love and affection. Now, he hadn't really had any time to expect anything, his burning desire had eclipsed all thoughts of consequence.

What he'd definitely not expected was the feeling of utter emptiness that followed the encounter. No magic. No sweetness. No swelling in his chest. No love.

The two men finally parted, Quatre hopping off the crate to button up his shirt and trousers while Trowa changed into his next costume. The awkwardness that settled between them spoke volumes and Quatre wanted to just run away. But he didn't. Instead, he asked a question that had been nagging at him since Trowa had contacted him after so many years of self-imposed silence.

"Why now, Trowa? Why did you call me and ask me out?"

Trowa looked at Quatre for a long time, his face stoic as he mulled over Quatre's question. When their eyes met, Quatre could see his own disappointment and panic reflected back at him.

"I don't know," Trowa finally said after taking a deep breath. "I thought it would be different." He placed the infamous half-mask onto his face and Quatre knew he'd lost him again.

"Yeah," Quatre said, "I know what you mean."

Quatre stepped closer to Trowa and cupped his unmasked cheek with his hand. He tipped his chin up and pressed his lips softly to Trowa's mouth, his lips pressing against ceramic and tender flesh equally.

"Goodbye, Trowa," he whispered.

"Goodbye, Quatre," Trowa responded, and understanding clearly that this goodbye was forever, he added a "thank you" that made his voice tremble with sincerity.

The long walk out of the tent was filled with guilty thoughts of Duo's smile, his boisterous laughter, his haunting indigo eyes. As Quatre stepped out of the circus, he heard the longwinded introduction of Trowa as the most fearsome lion tamer of them all, and though perhaps he should have been thinking of the finality of this disheartening encounter, his mind was already somewhere else.


	6. The Black and the White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo opens up to Wufei and finds that he understands.

 

Duo had never bemoaned his childhood spent living on the streets. He credited his unusually severe experience growing up with making him an excellent soldier and a tough son of a bitch and though perhaps he should have regretted his lack of stability in those formative childhood years, he honestly didn't think about it all that much.

Today was one of those abnormal days where he did find his mind dwelling on what having a family would have been like. He imagined it would be a lot the dinner he found himself having at the moment, Wufei sitting at the head of the table like a proud father, praising his wife's phenomenal cooking skills. The role of wife was played, of course, by the gorgeous Sally Po, who was responding to Wufei's compliments with sarcastic remarks that would have made Duo laugh out loud if he hadn't been thinking of the best blonde cook he knew. Despite the teasing nature of their exchange, Wufei and Sally hands were interlocked over the white table cloth. For some reason, Duo couldn't take his eyes off the sight. Maybe because it was both equal parts adorable and disgusting.

He sighed, pushing his food around on his plate with his silver fork, wishing he could tell Quatre about how strange this dinner had been. But he'd fucked that up beyond repair and Duo wouldn't blame Quatre if he never spoke to him again. He'd been conspicuously absent from the office the past couple of days, despite the fact that Relena had moved on to another colony on her PR tour.

Duo barely noticed Sally clearing the table. He only snapped out of his daze when he saw Sally and Wufei exchange the kind of look all long-time couples exchange. The one that meant 'I need you to leave because I have to talk to my idiot friend right now.' Or something like that.

Well, shit.

Once Sally used the flimsy excuse of reading some reports, Wufei and Duo were left alone. Silence hung heavy between them. Duo imagined that the shame and uneasiness he was feeling would be what it would feel like to disappoint a father. He felt oddly glad that he'd never experienced this particular brand of guilt before.

Wufei cleared his throat and turned a questioning eye towards Duo. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Duo was shocked by the softness in Wufei's voice. "Talk about what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"What's bothering you. You have barely touched your dinner and you're usually on your third plate right about now."

Duo looked at Wufei, knowing he wouldn't be deterred, and decided to give up the ghost. "I fucked up."

The concern and sympathy on Wufei's face was enough to make Duo unreasonably nervous, but he continued talking. It seemed like the right thing to do and he'd been doing an awful lot of the wrong thing for a long time now.

"I fucked up royally and there's nothing I can do to fix it and it fucking sucks."

No one ever accused Duo of being articulate.

"You want to be a bit more specific?"

Duo inhaled deeply, preparing for putting words to the abstract feeling of general shittiness he'd been feeling. "I told him I loved him."

"That seems like it's a good thing."

"I told him I loved him while we were fucking..."

"Maxwell, spare me the gory details - "

"I told him I loved him while we were fucking and then I left."

Duo usually prided himself on being able to shock Wufei into silence, but this time, his cheeks burned red with humiliation. He expected Wufei to chastise him for being such a thoughtless fool but again, Wufei surprised him.

"Well, that explains a lot," Wufei said quietly, without judgment or anger in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Duo asked curiously.

"It just makes a lot of sense. Why Winner transferred."

"He…what?" Duo's shrill voice rung out in the silence of the room.

"You didn't know? He didn't tell you?" Wufei seemed genuinely surprised.

"No, that fucker didn't tell me shit! That son of a bitch!" Duo felt indignant and irate and his fingers itched to slam against the nearest hard surface, but he inhaled shaky breaths and tried to control himself. "Where did he get transferred to?"

"I'd tell you but it seems like he doesn't want you to know that information."

"Damn..." Duo muttered under his breath as he slumped down in his chair. He couldn't bear to meet Wufei's gaze and the look of pity on his face so he opted for staring a hole into the tablecloth, his fingers worrying the edge of the fabric.

"Why?" Wufei ventured, after a couple of minutes of tense quiet.

"Why'd he leave? 'Cause he's an ungrateful, spoiled brat who can't even be bothered to say goodbye," Duo answered bitterly.

"No," Wufei explained, "I meant why did you tell him you loved him?"

Duo sighed at this and slumped even further into the chair, his anger seeping out of him in an instant. "'Cause I'm an idiot. I couldn't help myself, it was like fucking word vomit. It was just in my head and then I just said it and then I couldn't stop saying it. I just kept repeating it over and over again. It was awful."

"Why do you think you couldn't stop yourself from saying it?" Wufei hinted.

"I don't know, man!" Duo cried.

"Do you think it might be because you, oh I don't know, are in love with him?"

Duo snorted petulantly. "No, that's...that's just...no. I don't  _love_  things."

The 'L' word that came out of his mouth sounding distorted, like it was physically uncomfortable for him to even say the word itself.

Wufei rolled his eyes, realizing that this conversation was going to be much more difficult than he'd anticipated. He decided to try a different approach. "How did Winner react?" he asked.

Duo remembered the shy smile on Quatre's face and groaned pitifully before answering. "He seemed pretty damn happy, actually."

"Maxwell," Wufei said in that way that told him he was going to get his ass verbally handed to him, and Duo steeled himself for harsh words, "I understand you."

Well, Wufei was just fucking full of surprises tonight, wasn't he?

"I understand why you don't want to let anyone get close to you," he continued, "that's what we were trained to do. It was safer for us and for anyone we might care about. The war...changed us. It made us into killers and saviors and we were much too young for what was asked of us but we did it anyway, and we did a damn good job. But it's been over for almost a decade and the colonies don't really need us anymore. Not like before. I know it's hard to break out of that behavior, believe me, I know. But the way I see it you have two choices: you can run away from what we were, like Heero and Trowa, or you can face it, try to live with it, try to find the good in it."

Duo sat up straighter in his seat, Wufei's words inspired a sort of admiration in him. They'd discussed the war in detail many, many times, always skirting the issue of the emotional repercussions of their involvement. And yet, Wufei was breaking their unspoken ban on the subject. Duo felt almost awed by the change in his friend.

"I don't know which choice is the right one," Wufei confessed, his voice lowering, "My choice was to find the good. The war gave me a purpose, it allowed me to meet Sally, and it introduced me to my closest friends."

"'Fei..." Duo began, but he didn't know where his sentence was going. He felt it almost rude to interrupt such a clearly emotional moment for the other man yet he found himself asking, "What should I do?"

Wufei smiled a bit. "I don't know if you and Winner are meant to be together and live happily ever after. Hell, I don't know if it even matters. If you don't think you can love him and make him happy, that's fine. But you should still make things right with him because he is your friend. And  _that_  is important. Maybe more important than anything else."

Wufei stood then, clapping a hand on Duo's shoulder for a moment before patting him soothingly. Duo met Wufei's gaze finally, hoping that his face was expressing how damn grateful he was for Wufei and his loyalty at a time like this. The Chinese man nodded slightly before bidding Duo goodnight and shuffling upstairs to the bedroom he and Sally shared. At the top of the stairs, he flicked off the light switch, turning off all the lights in the first floor of the house. Duo knew it was an absent-minded mistake but he made no move to correct it. Instead, he sat in the crushing darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter compared to the others, but I promise there's a reason to my madness.


	7. Move On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quatre meets with a former comrade and recalls his twenty-fifth birthday.

 

Three months had passed since Quatre had taken up residence in Sanc Kingdom. He'd been asked to become a Preventer Commander almost immediately but he'd chosen instead to remain an active field agent before committing to such a position. That is, until Rashid had subtly (or so he thought) made it clear that the Maganacs would be thrilled to have him only a short plane ride away. 'Master Quatre, you should take on more responsibility,' he had said, baritone voice grumbling, 'and a more _secure_ position.'

Quatre succumbed to Rashid's unspoken plea, although he did admit that visiting the Maganacs more frequently certainly did wonders to lift his spirits.

Three months had passed and Quatre still found himself with thoughts of long, chestnut hair and vivid violet eyes. On most days, he could push them aside, do his job, stroll the cobblestone streets of Sanc ignoring his heavy heart. Other days, he was assaulted with bittersweet memories and regrets alike, and it took him much too long to get out bed in the morning.

Quatre hadn't said goodbye to Duo, though he had had every intention of doing so. But then, he remembered all the times he'd tried to say goodbye before and how Duo knew just the right things to say and the right way to kiss his neck until he forgot all about what made him want to leave in the first place. So, he left without a word. It was arguably one of the most cowardly things Quatre had ever done in his life and he thought about that decision every single day.

“Sir, can I get you anything to drink?”

He looked up at the waiter, who was smiling pleasantly and waiting for his response. “Just green tea, if you have some, please.”

“Sure, sir, I'll be right back with your order.”

Quatre watched the waiter walk away, nearly tripping over a dessert tray when he turned to sneak a glance back at him, and he knew he had him. The waiter smiled a bit too much, seemed a bit too nervous. Whatever the case, Quatre wasn't interested though he definitely wished he was. Maybe a fling with an adorable waiter was just what he needed.

Quatre looked down at his watch; it was half past five and Heero should have been here already. It was definitely unlike him to be late. Granted, Quatre hadn't seen the man in nine years. He'd contacted Heero through their old encoded communication channels to ask for his help. They'd used the channels before, usually Quatre wondering if Heero was safe and well. He usually received one word answers to his questions but it was flattering that Heero responded at all, considering he ignored everyone else. When Quatre had expressed his desire to relocate to Sanc, Heero had given him use of a small apartment in the Old Quarter, address unlisted and a front entrance that was nearly impossible to find. Quatre had been curious as to why Heero owned such a seedy residence, but he hadn't asked questions. Now, he'd finally found his own apartment in a much more well-lit part of the city and was returning the keys to Heero, who'd insisted they meet in person for the exchange.

Which led to Quatre, sitting in a charming cafe in the bright sunlight, waiting for his old wartime comrade. He occupied himself by watching the people stroll by. It was an unusually warm afternoon, though mid-winter, and people roamed the streets in less outerwear than usual, thankful for the break from the cold.

When a haggard-looking man sat in the seat across for him, Quatre had been prepared to inform him that he was waiting for someone until he noticed the familiar deep blue eyes.

“Heero?” Quatre asked, his voice cracking with surprise.

“Quatre,” came the inexpressive response.

Quatre wrestled with the image of the boy he'd remembered as Heero Yuy and the man sitting before him. He was still strong, the outline of his muscles clearly evident though his clothes were rumpled and disheveled. His hair stuck up at odd angles, messy as though he'd just rolled out of bed. But the most shocking part about this new Heero Yuy was undoubtedly his thick, dark beard.

He was incredibly thankful that the waiter chose this moment to deliver his tea, and the reprieve his taking of Heero's order of 'nothing for me, thanks' provided him. Quatre reached into his pockets to pull out Heero's apartment keys and when he was sure that he wouldn't burst into laughter if he opened his mouth, he finally spoke.

“Thank you so much for your help, Heero. It means a lot to me. And it's great to see you,” he said as he reached across the table to hand the keys to the other man.

Heero nodded slowly. “You're welcome.”

“So how have you been?” Quatre asked, blowing softly before sipping slowly at the steaming mug.

“Fine,” Heero answered in his usual, detailed way.

Quatre's curiosity got the best of him. “Are you undercover or something?”

Heero locked eyes with the blonde and Quatre almost swore that his lips twitched into something like a smile before he responded with a deadpan “no.”

Quatre wanted to be polite and ignore the subject of Heero's facial hair. It was an inconsequential thing, really, yet it spoke so much about how relaxed and comfortable Heero had become. Maybe he'd been better off than all of them, all these years. Maybe he'd shrugged off the weight of his sacrifices and mistakes and actually become a relatively normal human being.

“Relena likes it,” Heero said to Quatre's unasked question. 

It took all of Quatre's years of training and experience not to laugh at the fact that Heero Yuy, the Perfect Soldier, the savior of Earth, the heart of outer space, was apparently whipped by his girlfriend. He ducked his head, lips quivering and shoulders straining with effort. He managed somehow to maintain his composure, and he looked back up at Heero. The other man was smiling slightly, clearly aware of the effect his appearance had on Quatre.

He stood up from the table suddenly, shaking Quatre's hand before muttering, “I've gotta get going.”

Quatre thanked him again, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling as Heero ran his hands over his beard a bit self-consciously. Heero turned from him after the third time Quatre thanked him, a bit annoyed, but just as swiftly, he turned back around and said, “Oh, and happy birthday, Quatre,” before disappearing as quickly as he'd come.

Quatre sank in his chair, his mirth tempered by a sudden melancholy. There was only one person who'd appreciate the hilarity of Heero's unkempt appearance like he did, and that was Duo. He'd probably probe him for details and interrupt him to ask questions, making the story take so much longer than necessary to finish. Quatre left some notes on the table, more than enough to cover the cost of his drink and a generous tip for the kind waiter, and took off.

The sun was sinking in the sky, giving the afternoon a golden hue as he walked towards his new apartment. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to think about the last birthday gift he'd received. He failed, of course. By the time he opened his front door, he was already in a deep, dark hole of adding things to his mental list of sweet and unexpected things Duo had done for him. 

  

* * *

 

 

Quatre's twenty-fifth birthday had begun with him hearing loud crash in his living room that prompted him to grab his loaded gun, silently pad into the living room and point his weapon at a familiar shape in the dark.

“Quatre! What the hell are you doing? Watch where you point that damn thing!” had been Duo's strangled cry.

“You startled me,” Quatre responded, “aren't you supposed to be staying with Hilde tonight?”

“That was a lie,” Duo said, “can you turn on the light and stop pointing your damn gun at me?”

“Oh, sorry,” Quatre said. He flipped on the light switch to find Duo holding two, unmarked boxes.

“It's two in the morning, Duo, this better be good.” Quatre was not exactly fond of being startled awake. He didn't think anyone was.

“Did you move the coffee table?” Duo asked while rubbing his shin and then ignoring Quatre in favor of walking into the kitchen for a moment before returning, suspiciously missing one of his boxes. He tossed the remaining box at Quatre, who caught it instinctively. Duo smiled widely before adding, “Happy Birthday, Quat.”

Quatre tilted his head, confused by this unexpected turn of events, and opened the plain shoebox to find his old pilot's goggles. He felt his cheeks flame and Duo grinned at the blonde's reaction. “Where did you get these?”

“I've got my ways,” Duo said mysteriously, stepping closer to Quatre, pulling him by his threadbare sweatpants to make their bodies touch.

“I thought I'd burned these,” Quatre muttered.

“Come on, doll, they're not that bad. Besides, I've always wanted to fuck you in those,” Duo smirked at Quatre's scowl, knowing how much Quatre hated his pet names but unable to keep himself from calling him the most ridiculously things he could think of, just to see the other man's reaction. Besides, it was just too goddamn fun to get Quatre all flustered and riled up.

Tonight though, it seemed that Quatre was too tired or surprised to argue, because he ignored the name.

“So your birthday present to me is that you get to indulge your weird fetish by having sex with me in my old goggles?” he asked, his voice free of any real disdain.

They didn't usually give gifts for their birthdays; Quatre hated being reminded of the extravagant parties of his childhood and Duo had never developed the habit and didn't actually remember his real date of birth. Instead, they'd celebrate by spending they day in bed together, lazing about, making breakfast in the afternoon, and showering together late at night.

“That's a great idea,” he murmured, his mouth already at Quatre's neck, pressing soft kisses onto the skin, “but we'll have to wait until your real present is done.”

“There's something else?” Quatre asked, his voice husky and low, suddenly desperate to have Duo inside him as his hands grasped Duo's jacket and his mouth tangled in his hair.

“Yep, so hurry up and get dressed, we don't have all night,” Duo said as he untangled himself from Quatre.

“Are you serious?” Quatre blanched. It wasn't often that Duo resisted his advances.

Duo beamed, loving the way Quatre looked absolutely perplexed, hair mussed from sleep and sweatpants hanging precariously low on his hips. He didn't respond to the blonde, only grabbed him by the shoulders to shove him into the bedroom. “You have five minutes, Quat.”

Later on, when the two had been sneaking through the darkened streets of the colony, destination unknown to him, Quatre thought about an old recurring dream he'd had before the start of Operation Meteor. He had dreamt that a shadow would sneak into his room late at night and shake him awake. Quatre would open his eyes and feel no fear, only a buzzing sensation in the pit of his stomach he'd later come to recognize as exhilaration. The shadow would take his hand and guide him out of the prison of his room, out into the brightness of the world. He'd always wake up before he could get a good look at the shadow, but the thrill he had felt running through the streets, following Duo's expert lead, was the same one he'd felt from his dream. 

Nothing could have prepared Quatre for the sight he was greeted with when they finally arrived. They stood in a large hanger, a Taurus model mobile suit settled into the loading deck.

“Duo, what is this?” was all Quatre could breathe out.

“It's from that museum exhibit Dorothy's been working on. Doesn't have any weapons or anything, obviously, but she'll fly.”

If Duo's explanation came out sounding rather like bragging, well, it couldn't be helped. He'd been planning this for weeks and he was damn proud of himself for being able to pull the scheme off. Besides, it was admittedly a fucking _awesome_ birthday present.

Quatre could only look at Duo, eyes wide and shining. Duo smiled and held out his hand to the blonde pilot, feeling a wave of affection towards Quatre when their hands slotted together. He led them both closer and closer to the massive machine. “Now, I pulled a lot of strings for this, so we only have about half an hour with her. I don't have to tell you this is highly illegal but, twenty-five's a big deal, right? Perfect time to commit a felony. So how 'bout it, Quat? How'd you like to relive the glory days?”

The kiss Quatre had stolen from him was more than enough reward for Duo. The shorter man had desperately clashed their mouths together, too sloppy for their age but Duo didn't mind. He didn't mind acting childishly with the man in his arms. In fact, he loved being reckless and wild, especially for Quatre. Besides, he had done good. He had made Quatre ridiculously happy, if only for one night.

For this one night, long-running arguments about Hilde and relationships were far out of sight and out of mind.

He wrapped his arms around the blonde's waist and held him close, not wanting to let the light feeling of utter contentment go. He planted a kiss on Quatre's forehead when he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Spacesuit's in the cockpit, babe. Have fun.”

Quatre had made his way up to the loading bay almost lightning fast, his chest expanding and filling with the most wonderful feeling. He looked down at the tiny figure of Duo before winking at the braided man, slipping on his goggles and jumping into the opened cockpit. For the first time in his life, he knew what it felt like to be understood. 

 

 


	8. At Long Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo and Quatre find their way back to each other.

 

Duo's hands trembled with an anxiety he hadn't felt in ages, his eyes darted at every shadow that passed at the opening of the alley he was currently hiding in. He shivered in the dim space between two buildings, not knowing whether it was the cold that was making him shake, or the man he was meeting with. He ran his hands nervously through his hair, a weak attempt at combing the matted locks. He'd been deep undercover for the past two months, infiltrating a fairly large gang suspected of having access to nuclear explosives. It was a relief to find that the rumors were just that, but he'd stayed on the case longer, hoping to assist local police with ending the drug trafficking the gang was involved in.

He was here to meet with a Preventer Commander to debrief him on his findings. He was so close to getting out, he could practically taste it. Duo had never experienced a restlessness like this; he'd never been so desperate to finish an operation. But he had to endure, he had to last just a little longer, just until—

A movement at the end of the alley caught his eye and Duo took a deep, shaky breath. The figure stood for a long moment, silhouetted against the light streaming into the shadowy alley, and Duo felt the air fill his lungs easily for the first time since the start of his mission.

“Duo?”

The sharp tone of voice, widened blue-green eyes and mouth hanging open told Duo everything he needed to know about the situation. Quatre had no idea he was his inside man. Duo smiled at him ruefully, his chapped lips cracking and bleeding.

“You're the...” Quatre's familiar voice trailed off and Duo wished he could just keep him talking, keep him interested, keep him from leaving him lying against the red brick. 

“What did they give you?” Quatre asked, his strict voice cutting through the haze that filled Duo's mind and clouded his vision. “Duo, I need you to talk to me? Can you stand?”

“I haven't taken anything, they didn't...they didn't...” Duo's voice came out barely above a whisper and he struggled to finish his sentence.

There was so much he needed to say, he was almost bursting with it, but his mind was fucked and he couldn't quite remember how it had gotten that way. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Quatre was here, a solid presence holding him up and taking the weight off of his unbelievably sore legs. His eyelids felt heavy, like lead, and he struggled to keep them open and see the man he'd been aching for. The man he'd done all of this stupid, stupid shit for.

“What's stupid? Duo, I need you to snap out of it for just one second. Duo!”

Duo hadn't realized he'd been babbling. Quatre held Duo tightly, his commanding tone finally making Duo's head snap to attention.

“No drugs.”

“No drugs, okay, that's good. Now, what is wrong?” Quatre said and his voice sounded like it was coming from another room, distant and warbled.

“Zero-two: report!”

At that, Duo's limp body went rigid, snapping to attention, eyes wide with a sudden surge of adrenaline. He looked at Quatre and spoke as clearly as he could manage. “No drugs. No sleep. Just need a few more days to gather the rest of the--”

“That won't be necessary, I'm pulling you out. How long since you've slept?”

“Ten days, I think.”

“Jesus, Duo… alright, you're coming with me.”

“No, the mission.”

“Forget the mission. You're clearly having some sort of breakdown here and not sleeping for ten days is not helping. Just let me take you home, please.”

That was the polite Quatre he knew and loved. Duo could think that now, without fear or doubt. He should probably tell him; that's why he'd taken this mission, that's what the past two months spent in hell had been for. He should tell him right fucking now, before the moment passed him by, but he suddenly felt weightless and safe and he closed his eyes, letting the darkness overtake him. 

 

* * *

 

 

Duo awoke slowly. His eyes fluttered open and he stretched his arms, the joints cracking from disuse. He looked around an unfamiliar bedroom and felt immediately on edge, until he recalled the last few moments before he'd drifted to sleep. It was dark beyond the sole window of the bedroom and a soft rain fell, tapping gently against the glass and obscuring the outlines of buildings beyond.

From inside the apartment, Duo could hear the sounds of a wooden spoon against the stainless steel and his stomach growled, reminding him it had been many days since he'd had a proper meal. He knew who was standing just outside the bedroom and for a moment, he debated whether to leave the bed at all. It seemed so much easier to lie back down, let sleep overtake him again and avoid a confrontation. He left the comfort of the bed, despite his hesitance. He'd been aiming for a moment like this since he'd found out where Quatre had been transferred to and this was no time to be a goddamn coward about it.

His muscles strained with the effort as he walked into the living room.

The studio apartment was much smaller than Quatre's old digs, and standing just outside the bedroom door, Duo had a clear view of the man himself, clad in an apron and fussing over the pots on the stove. He felt his heart swell at the sight, and damn near keeled over when Quatre noticed him and graced him with a small smile. Duo straightened his spine and walked into the kitchen.

“I was hoping you'd wake up today. You've been out for a couple of days,” Quatre informed him as he turned off the burners and faced Duo fully.

Duo wrung his hands together anxiously before replying darkly, “I compromised the mission by being careless.”

“Well, lucky for you, you're a better agent than you think. It turns out you already had all the evidence needed to arrest the top officers in the gang. Their leader's on the run, but it's only a matter of time until we find him, too,” Quatre explained and there was a lightness to Quatre's tone that stunned Duo. He had expected anger and harshness from his ex-lover, not this odd warmth.

Duo didn't feel particularly comforted by the information, but the fact that Quatre was trying to make him feel better certainly helped a least a bit. When he'd envisioned seeing Quatre again, he definitely didn't think it would be like this—strangely domestic and unremarkable, as if no time had passed at all. He had practiced what he was going to say so many times in his head, but all the practice had been for nothing. He couldn't remember a single word. 

“Listen, Quat,” he began, not knowing exactly what to say but knowing that something had to give before he burst into flames or something.

“Are you having nightmares again?” Quatre asked suddenly, his voice colored by concern and something Duo couldn't quite place.

Not many people knew that Duo had struggled with paralyzing nightmares throughout most of his life and after the war, they'd been particularly awful. The bouts of vivid dreams featuring the Maxwell Church burning to a crisp and Duo reaching out, hurting everything he laid his hands on no matter how softly he tried to touch, came in waves. The only thing that helped was Quatre. The first night he had had one while sleeping next to the blonde, Quatre had held Duo tightly in his arms when the panic of the dream still bled into his reality. He helped him to breathe normally again, his voice soft and soothing, easing the tension out of Duo's mind. When Quatre left for Earth, the dreams had returned with a vengeance. They now included vivid images of Duo attempting to hold Quatre, only to find that each time he touched the man, he'd start to bleed and bruise.

Duo considered lying for a moment, but when he opened his mouth to speak, the truth tumbled out without his permission. “Yeah.”

Quatre's lips pursed and ducked his head and Duo knew exactly what that look meant. He knew that Quatre was doing what he did best, blaming himself for things that he had no control over. Putting the weight of the world on his own shoulders. He was probably thinking that Duo nightmares were a direct result of him leaving and though it wasn't necessarily untrue, he wasn't exactly to blame.

“It's not your fault, Quat. Please don't think that.” 

Quatre's head snapped up and his eyes latched onto Duo's. “I shouldn't have left like that. I'm so sorry, Duo. I should have said goodbye or left a letter or _something_. I was selfish and a coward and I'm sorry.”

They stood in silence for a moment while Duo thought of what to say. He was never any good at this communicating your emotions thing, but for Quatre, he could try. “You did the only thing you could do. I was the one who pushed you away.”

Quatre mouth hung open. “Maybe you should go shower.”

“Is that your polite way of telling me I smell bad?” 

Quatre smiled half-heartedly at Duo's joke.

“No, but you've had it tough for a while. It might help clear your mind.”

“I've been waiting three months to say this to you,” Duo said and it was true. He was finally here and after all he'd been through, he wasn't going to let Quatre's deflection methods distract him from his goal.

Quatre swallowed thickly and Duo watched the movement, his body suddenly taking notice of the proximity of the blonde. He took one deep breath before continuing. “I tried to find you after you were gone. Obviously, you weren't going to be on L4, so that pretty much just left Earth as an option. You'd be proud of the Maganacs, though, they were fucking unbreakable. But you know Rashid has always had a soft spot for me.”

“Figures,” Quatre said and rolled his eyes; he was well acquainted with Rashid's unyielding support of the Deathscythe pilot. “He told you I was in Sanc, huh?”

“Yeah,” Duo affirmed, “I had my suspicions, though. You're not nearly as stealthy as you think.”

“Is that you came all the way to Earth to tell me?” Quatre asked irritably.

“No, I just...” Duo trailed off, it was always easier to mask his emotions with sarcasm and jokes, but this was important. “I knew you were the supervising agent on that mission,” he began again, “and I knew they wouldn't tell you my name until it was absolutely necessary. I didn't think you'd talk to me if I just showed up.”

“So this was all a ploy?” 

Duo could see he was losing Quatre again. The blonde's eyes narrowed and his hand rested on his cocked hip, the very picture of disbelief. 

“Okay, just let me start over,” Duo scrambled to think of the right thing to say and then, the words were spilling out of his mouth, simple and clean and unbearably true, “I came here to tell you that I love you.”

Quatre's face remained impassive. He blinked slowly, unsurprised and unchanged despite Duo's heartfelt confession. _So this is what it feels like to strike out,_ Duo thought sardonically. 

Duo continued speaking though, mostly because his mouth was having trouble catching up with the reality of basically being turned down, but also because he thought, rather foolishly, that there was some magical combination of words that would fix all of this. “I love you and I'm still here. I'm not running. I don't know if it's too late, but if it isn't, I'd really like to make the last eight years up to you.”

Quatre straightened and Duo's heart hammered against his chest so hard and fast he thought he might be having a damn panic attack. He squeezed his hands into fists, leaving crescent indents on his palms. Outside, the rain had stopped falling.

“You gonna take that shower now?” Quatre asked, his lips quirking like he was suppressing a smile.

Duo frowned in confusion, but he figured avoiding the subject was a lot better than outright kicking him out so he nodded dutifully and let Quatre lead him to the bathroom.

Inside the shower, Duo let the warm water soothe his muscles and the dull ache in the center of his chest. He didn't know how it was possible to feel both elated and utterly broken at the same time, and yet, here he was. Quatre hadn't told him to go fuck himself, but he also hadn't said that he loved him back and Duo wasn't entirely sure how to interpret that. So he stayed in the shower longer than he should, attempting to calm himself, preparing for whatever waited for him outside. 

He realized belatedly that he had no clothes in Quatre's apartment, so he came out wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist and hoped that the blonde wouldn't be too upset.

Duo exited the bathroom to find that most of the lights had been turned down. In the dimmed lighting, he could see that Quatre had set the table. The steam from the soup in their bowls and the smell of a delicious and warm dinner awakened the hunger in Duo's stomach but his eyes darted around the apartment, searching for Quatre.

“I missed you,” came the soft voice behind him.

Duo turned to face Quatre, who was fiddling nervously with his hands as his eyes unabashedly roamed Duo's bare chest.

“I'm a mess without you, Quat,” Duo begged.

“I'm not exactly doing brilliantly, either,” Quatre admitted, taking a tentative step closer to Duo.

“I was such an idiot.” The words fell breathlessly from Duo's parted lips.

Quatre looked up at Duo and smiled as he took another step. “Can't argue with you there.”

“I know I fucked up, I get that. But will you just give me one more--”

“Stop talking, Duo,” Quatre said, closing the space between them.

He chuckled a bit at the sight of Duo's mouth snapping shut and he brought his hands up to stroke Duo's biceps gently. Duo wanted to engrave the sight of this Quatre, eyes shimmering through his lashes and lips upturned in a gentle smile, into his memory. Duo's skin burned in the wake of the path Quatre's hands made, bicep to shoulder to neck. He shivered at the touch and when Quatre's hand clasped his neck to bring their lips together delicately, Duo thought he might be dreaming.

Quatre's lips pressed softly against his, sliding sweetly and unhurried. It was as if their mouths were unaware of the many months that had passed; their lips remembered each other perfectly and Duo lost himself in the velvet-smooth sensation. Between sighs and light moans, Duo let Quatre deepen their kiss, his previous disbelief at what was happening replaced by an urgency to possess and be possessed.

Duo's hands reached out, without his knowledge, but he held back before reaching Quatre's face. His hands recoiled, as if burned by an invisible fire, and Quatre caught Duo's wrists before he could let his hands settle at his sides. Duo broke their kiss to look into Quatre's eyes. He didn't want to tell him about the dreams where Quatre's skin bruised purple, black and ugly under his hands and that he was irrationally afraid that his touch would harm the man who held his heart. It seemed, though, that Quatre didn't need the explanation.

He placed Duo's hand against his chest and whispered, “touch me.”

It was all the direction Duo needed. He grabbed Quatre's face in his hands and pushed their lips together again, no longer scared to harm his dearest friend and greatest lover. Seized with a need to prove to Quatre that he would never hurt him again, he kissed him until both their heads spun.

Filled with desperation and want, they stumbled past the dinner table, hands and lips tangled together, making the journey to the bedroom too difficult. When Quatre pushed Duo against the full-length window, he hissed at the sharp contrast between the cold glass and the heat of Quatre pressing against his back. Were he any other man, the thought of random passersby glancing up at the window to see Quatre, fully clothed, snapping Duo's towel off his naked form and tugging on his damp and unbraided hair while mouthing at his neck, might scare him. But he was Duo fucking Maxwell and, frankly, it turned him on so much he let out a pained groan.

Quatre ran his hands through Duo's hair, leaning against the silky strands to inhale the scent of Duo, heady and masculine.

“I missed this,” he whispered, lips brushing against Duo's heated skin. Duo twisted his head to catch Quatre in a kiss as the other man's hands reached around his waist to touch his achingly hard cock.

Duo moaned, a low sound that Quatre couldn't believe he'd been so close to giving up. He stroked Duo at a quick and steady rhythm, just the way he liked it, wrenching his orgasm out of him so quickly and suddenly that Duo's vision went white for one glorious moment of bliss. His body slumped, his face pressed against the glass, his rapid breath leaving a patch of condensation. His thighs trembled with exhaustion and the aftershocks of his orgasm. He twisted in Quatre's arms, kissing him slowly once they faced each other.

Quatre reached into his pocket to pull out a small packet of lube and a condom, unbuckling his belt and letting his jeans drop to his ankles. He made to prepare himself, but Duo caught his forearm and pulled the slicked fingers against his own entrance. Quatre looked up at Duo, reverent and surprised, but pressed his fingers inside. Both men moaned at the tightness, unaccustomed to having their positions reversed. Duo wrapped his arms around Quatre and bought their foreheads together, whispering encouragements to the other man. He wanted to do this. Show Quatre, and any unsuspecting passerby, who he belonged to.

Quatre was careful and slow to prepare him, just as Duo knew he would be. After a few minutes, he couldn't take the anticipation any longer and he pushed Quatre's hand away, spinning around to brace his hands against the smudged glass.

When Quatre pushed his straining cock inside Duo, he did so slowly, giving Duo plenty of chance to adjust to the intrusion once he was buried to the hilt. Both men trembled, aware of the significance of this unexplored territory. When Duo pushed back wantonly against Quatre, eager to feel the movement inside, Quatre began to move his hips. Their speed increased gradually as Quatre feared hurting Duo.

Duo had been fucked before. Roughly, usually racing against time and a couple of times against his will. But not often. And never like this. He had never felt the slow burn of another orgasm building languidly, or strong hands massaging his back and his shoulders before grabbing his hips tightly. Quatre's chin rested on his shoulder, melding their bodies together, no way to tell where one man began and the other ended. They moved in a perfect rhythm, synchronized, their breath coming in short bursts and long groans. Duo couldn't even tell which noises belonged to him—which _“I love yous”_ were Quatre's, whispered against his ear, or his, loudly moaned against the icy plane of glass.

Duo's cock was hard again and he chuckled breathlessly when he reached down to touch himself only to have his hand slapped away by Quatre. The blonde wrapped his hand around Duo again, hips faltering in their speed as he hurtled closer to release. Quatre was a scorching, sweaty heat against his back, filling him to the brim with his hard cock and his delicious grunts and his particular brand of forgiveness and it didn't take long for Duo to come hard. He slammed his eyes shut as he spilled white over Quatre's hand again. Quatre wrapped his free hand around the one Duo had braced against the fogged glass, threading their fingers together before sinking his teeth into Duo's shoulder, a sudden cry signaling his release.

They didn't move, save for their chests rising and falling, for a long time. Quatre gingerly pulled out of Duo, who winced at the loss. He used the discarded towel to gently clean Duo, their eyes meeting shyly, like teenagers once again.

Duo felt lighter and lighter by the second.

Quatre left for a minute to find clothes for Duo and he returned with sweatpants and a worn t-shirt. He watched Duo dress. “Does this mean you forgive me?” Duo asked, only half-joking.

Quatre reached out and embraced Duo tightly and for one heart-stopping second, Duo thought the way his shoulders shuddered meant that he was crying. But then, Quatre lifted his head and began laughing against Duo's lips. Duo let himself enjoy the moment, sweet and perfect, before he kissed him again, swallowing the sound. 

“You're fucking crazy, Duo,” Quatre said, teasingly, when Duo let him come up for air.

“Crazy about you,” Duo responded without missing a beat, echoing their conversation only a few months prior.

“God, I love you,” Quatre said, still laughing, as if his heart hadn't been broken by Duo. Duo arms tightened around him. He hadn't expected that hearing those words would give him a fluttering feeling in his stomach. He truly was a sap now, but he supposed some things can't be helped. He didn't really care; he'd do anything if it meant Quatre would burst into laughter and hold him close.

“So what do you plan to do now?” Quatre asked when his laughter subsided.

“Well,” Duo began, moving them to sit on the couch they'd ignored in the rush to fuck senselessly, “I put in a transfer request. Wufei's making it incredibly difficult for me with all the bureaucracy. I think he wants to teach me a lesson or something. But the request should come through in a couple of more weeks.”

“You're transferring here?” Quatre asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

“It'd be kind of hard to be with you if I was a million miles away, don't you think?” Duo winked, stretching out on the couch and motioning for Quatre to come lie between his legs. Quatre obliged, his head resting on Duo's taut torso while the other man stroked his hair.

“You've thought about this. You're really doing this,” Quatre's statements sounded more like questions and Duo smiled.

“Well, turns out I can't be your partner anymore since you're some big shot Commander now. Also, 'Fei may or may not have filed some complaints about us in that department. But, I can work for the same agency still, so there's that.”

“I meant are you sure that you want to be with me,” Quatre's voice was boyishly soft against the worn fabric of Duo's shirt.

“Yeah, Quat,” Duo answered, “Just you. Always you.”

Quatre sat up, planting a quick kiss on Duo's mouth before burying his head in the crook of Duo's neck. Both men were tired, in a good way, the soreness in their bones and muscles lulling them to sleep. They laid in silence, memories of all they'd been through filled their minds along with hopes for what still lay ahead. They slotted together—at long last, perfectly together. They fell asleep in a warm tangle of limbs, breathing easily, both men relishing the feel of their bodies wrapped around each other. Inexorably.

The dinner Quatre had cooked cooled, remaining uneaten and forgotten. Outside, the moon slipped from behind dark clouds, bathing the living room in faint moonlight. Duo and Quatre slumbered uninterrupted, peacefully and without dreams. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Miss M for all her encouragement and support. This is an unusual pairing but I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
